Supernatural Smut Book
by Random-Wolf12
Summary: I dont own any of the characters. The CW does.
1. Withdrawl (samReader)

Withdrawal

Summary: During Sam's withdrawal of demon blood, he thinks you're a demon and breaks free from his restraints and does things like drinks your blood and fucks you against the wall. You struggle, but in the end, you give in. (Sam Winchester/Reader).

Chapter 1

The three of you stood and watched as Sam walked into the panic room. This is for the best, you thought over and over to yourself, this is for the best.

"Alright. So, uh, what's the big demon problem?" Sam asked as he turned around. You tried your hardest not to start crying as Dean and Bobby walked up to the doorway to block Sam.

"You are," Bobby said flatly, "This is for your own good." Bobby closed the door as soon as Sam started to walk up to it, locking it in place.

"Guys? Hey, hey. What?" You couldn't stand the look on Sam's face as they latched the window and Sam's voice became a little more worried.

"This isn't funny. Guys! Hey! Guys?" Bobby and Dean laid a hand on each of your shoulders before climbing up the stairs and out of view. You couldn't hold in your tears any longer. As soon as the door to the upstairs shut, your body started to shake as the tears streamed down your face.

Last night, Bobby Singer had called you and told you to get your ass over there pronto, that Sam was in trouble. He knew you'd come running since it was about Sam, he knew you'd come because you'd liked Sam for a while. Now, seeing Sam like this scared you. It frightened you on what this demon blood addiction could do to him and it didn't help that he was now banging on the door and yelling for them to open the door.

"(Y/N)!" You jumped at the sound of your name being screamed from behind the panic room's doors, "(Y/N), please! Open the door!" New drops of tears streamed down your face as you remembered your orders: under no circumstances are you to go in there. Don't listen to a word he says. He will get through this, he just needs help to get there. The words rang through your mind as you walked farther from the door and sat at the desk, hoping that he'd quiet down and you could stop crying.

Hours later, Sam had finally calmed down and been quiet. You'd been able to stop crying and go to the bathroom to fix your makeup and such when a bloodcurdling scream came from inside the panic room. You raced out of the bathroom so fast you swore you knocked something over on the way there. Your feet stopped at the door and all you heard was silence, but you needed to know that he was okay. Slowly, you unlatched the window and looked in. Out of the area, you could see, Sam was nowhere to be seen.

"Sam?" You whispered. No response. This is bad, you thought. This is so bad. What if Sam did something to himself? What if something got in? What if that something killed him?! All orders given to you were thrown out the window as you swung the door open, stepped inside and slammed the door behind you.

"Sam?" you whispered again. You were getting nervous now, every cell in your body tingled in fear. All of your sense honed in and searched for any tell-tale signs; broken and scattered objects, signs of a break in, blood. Nothing showed up that your senses could find. As you were just about to run and get Bobby and Dean, a set of arms wrapped around you and pinned you against the wall in front of you.

"How did you get in here?" It was Sam and he sounded horrible.

"Oh, Sam, thank god. I was so worried, I-" Suddenly, Sam slammed you against the wall. Your head hit the wall so hard you swore it would bruise. Sam looked like he had been trying to tear his hair out and his eyes were dark and cold. He looked like he could kill.

"Sam, what are you-" Sam pushed you harder against the brick wall when you began to speak.

"They're testing me, aren't they? They think I can't control myself around demons. That I'll lose control," his hands gripped tightly against your throat, "but they're wrong." Suddenly, you felt a sharp sting against your collarbone. Sam had taken something sharp and drawing blood along your collarbone.

"Sam, I'm not a demon. It's me. It's (Y/N)." Sam's grip on you tightened when you said your name. Sam looked at you as if you weren't even there and it scared you. You had no choice, but you had to get free so you could get help. You took your hands off of Sam's arms and shoved your fingers into his eye sockets, a pain filled scream eliciting from Sam. He let go but quickly pinned you back against the wall, his knee splitting your legs apart and restrained your arms above your head with one hand while the other gripped your throat again.

"They told you to say you were (Y/N), didn't they? Bastards!"

"Sam, please. It's me! Remember you saved me from being split in half? We were after a werewolf and it threw me across that mill and you saved me." Your memory didn't faze him as he stared at the blood slowly coming from the cut on your collarbone.

"They think I'll lose control…" Sam leaned his face closer to the cut, "they're wrong…" Suddenly, you felt his tongue flick out and touch the cut. Sam moaned against your collarbone. Any other day you would have reveled in his touch, but this was seriously making you worry.

"Sam, stop. I'm not a demon!" You tried to push him away, but that only made Sam push his body closer to you.

"Liar. You taste like a demon. Delicious…" Sam moaned again and when he pushed harder against you, you felt something bulging against you. Oh, my god! Sam's mouth latched onto the cut on your collarbone and began to suck the blood out of your wound and suddenly he was grinding against you. Your mind started to feel fuzzy as he continued to suck on the cut. It took you a second, but you finally snapped out of it and began to struggle against him. Sam picked you up despite your efforts and laid you on the mattress that Dean and Bobby had provided to restrain him if he ever got too rowdy. Now, he was using it to restrain you. As soon as you were tied down, Sam got on top of you and slit your shirt in half with the knife he cut you with.

"Sam, stop it! You're scaring me!" Sam ignored you as he dragged the knife across the tops of your breasts. Sam's eyes widened in excitement at the blood.

"I'm in control…" Sam leaned down and licked along the cuts. His hands drifted along your sides with the knife until he reached your pants. His bulge was now pressed on top of your pubic area and you could feel it pulsating through his jeans. The knife froze at the side of your pants. Sam seemed to freeze as if he was thinking and then you heard the sound of him ripping your jeans with the knife.

"Sam-" your words were cut off when Sam suddenly spread your legs and thrust against you. The cold air of the panic room rushed over your legs as your pants were put aside. Sam's pants were gone, too, and you could fully feel the extent of his erection. You cursed at your body as your panties grew wet against his thrusts.

"I'm in control…" Sam repeated those words like a mantra as he began to suckle again on your wounds. Your mind was practically spinning as Sam was doing these things to you. You knew you should be yelling for help, that this was wrong, but it just felt so good...

"Sam…" the moan escaped from your throat when Sam's thrusts became faster. Suddenly, you felt Sam pull his boxers out of the way and you could feel the head of his cock just inches away from your pussy.

"I'm in control," Sam said once again. You couldn't stand it anymore, everything he was doing was driving you crazy! You knew you would regret this later, but you couldn't stand it anymore.

"You're in control, Sam." You lifted your butt up and as soon as Sam went to grind against you, his cock instead slid into your pussy. You both moaned at the sensation once he was inside you, "Sam…" You lifted your arms to try and bring Sam up to you, but the restraints kept you from doing do. Sam groaned as he began to thrust into you, all the while sucking on your cuts. Sam slid down your breasts to suck on your nipple as his other hand grabbed your ass and thrust harder into you.

"I need more," Sam grunted as his mouth attached itself to the cut above your breasts once more. Your head was spinning at this point and you couldn't decide if it was from him fucking you or the idea that he was practically drinking your blood like a vampire.

"Untie me, Sam." Your hands were struggling against the restraints to touch Sam. Sam didn't even lift his head up as he took off the restraints and as soon as your arms wrapped around him, his mouth slid up to suck on the cut on your collarbone. While still inside you, Sam picked you up by your ass and slammed you against the wall with his deepening thrusts. You could feel your climax coming as soon as Sam placed his hand on your clit and started rubbing in circles.

"Sam!" You squirmed against his touch as both his thrusts and hand on your clit became quicker. And just as soon as you'd felt your climax coming, it shook through you just as fast. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as your white, hot climax ripped through you and clenched around Sam's cock. A monstrous roar erupted from Sam as he climaxed as well and, suddenly, the door to the panic room opened and Dean came running in guns blazing.

"What the hell?!" Sam was still sucking on your cut as Dean ran towards you. Then you felt it. That weak, dizzy feeling that had eluded you during your sexual experience with Sam hit you hard. And just as you saw Dean trying to rip Sam off of you, your vision blurred and you blacked out.

Chapter 2

When you woke up, you were back in your hotel room. Your head pounded as your phone blared your incoming call ringtone. When you answered, Dean spoke quickly.

"Y/N, how are you feeling?" Your fingers massaged your temple as you answered him.

"I'm fine, I guess."

"Okay. Listen. Bobby is knocked out and Sam escaped-" You shot straight up and quickly regretted it when your head pounded even harder.

"He what?!"

"Sam escaped. And I think he's going for Ruby or to find you..." Dean's voice disappeared as your heart stopped and then started racing when you heard the door to your hotel room open and close and saw Sam come waltzing from around the corner.

"It's me." You whispered before hanging up on Dean. You backed yourself back against the headboard and reached for the knife on your nightstand.

"You won't be needing that." Sam outstretched his hand and the knife went flying into his before you felt your body slide down the bed and lay sprawled out as he moved his arm down. Sam smiled when you realized you couldn't move.

"Sam-" Sam sprinted across the room to crawl on top of you as he placed a finger to your lips. Sam's eyes wandered down your body and back up to your eyes sending a shiver down your spine. Dammit, you cursed yourself at the feeling. Sam's hand slipped from your mouth to wrap around your throat.

"Sam, you're sick. You need help." Sam grip tightened around your throat tight enough that you were having trouble breathing

"No! I'm in control…" Sam's grip released and he nuzzled his face into your neck. The sudden touch made you flash back to yesterday.

"Sam, please. It's me! Remember you saved me from being split in half? We were after a werewolf and it threw me across that mill and you saved me." Your memory didn't faze him as he stared at the blood slowly coming from the cut on your collarbone.

"They think I'll lose control…" Sam leaned his face closer to the cut, "they're wrong…" Suddenly, you felt his tongue flick out and touch the cut. Sam moaned against your collarbone. Any other day you would have reveled in his touch, but this was seriously making you worry.

"Sam, stop. I'm not a demon!" You tried to push him away, but that only made Sam push his body closer to you.

"Liar. You taste like a demon. Delicious…" Sam moaned again and when he pushed harder against you, you felt something bulging against you. Oh, my god! Sam's mouth latched onto the cut on your collarbone and began to suck the blood out of your wound and suddenly he was grinding against you. Your mind started to feel fuzzy as he continued to suck on the cut. It took you a second, but you finally snapped out of it and began to struggle against him. Sam picked you up despite your efforts and laid you on the mattress that Dean and Bobby had provided to restrain him if he ever got too rowdy. Now, he was using it to restrain you. As soon as you were tied down, Sam got on top of you and slit your shirt in half with the knife he cut you with.

"Sam, stop it! You're scaring me!" Sam ignored you as he dragged the knife across the tops of your breasts. Sam's eyes widened in excitement at the blood.

"I'm in control…""Sam, please. It's me! Remember you saved me from being split in half? We were after a werewolf and it threw me across that mill and you saved me." Your memory didn't faze him as he stared at the blood slowly coming from the cut on your collarbone.

"They think I'll lose control…" Sam leaned his face closer to the cut, "they're wrong…" Suddenly, you felt his tongue flick out and touch the cut. Sam moaned against your collarbone. Any other day you would have reveled in his touch, but this was seriously making you worry.

"Sam, stop. I'm not a demon!" You tried to push him away, but that only made Sam push his body closer to you.

"Liar. You taste like a demon. Delicious…" Sam moaned again and when he pushed harder against you, you felt something bulging against you. Oh, my god! Sam's mouth latched onto the cut on your collarbone and began to suck the blood out of your wound and suddenly he was grinding against you. Your mind started to feel fuzzy as he continued to suck on the cut. It took you a second, but you finally snapped out of it and began to struggle against him. Sam picked you up despite your efforts and laid you on the mattress that Dean and Bobby had provided to restrain him if he ever got too rowdy. Now, he was using it to restrain you. As soon as you were tied down, Sam got on top of you and slit your shirt in half with the knife he cut you with.

"Sam, stop it! You're scaring me!" Sam ignored you as he dragged the knife across the tops of your breasts. Sam's eyes widened in excitement at the blood.

"I'm in control…"

The sound of handcuffs clicking shut pulled you back from your flashback. Sam's hand against your neck had been replaced with the knife and you felt his boner pressing firmly against your leg.

"Sam, please. Dean will be here any second." Sam laughed and started to unbutton your clothes with his other hand.

"I'm not worried about Dean, Y/N. Not when I have Ruby and her friends outside watching the door so we can…" A devilish grin spread across Sam's face once he had slipped your pants off to reveal your panties. The look Sam gave your private parts made your curse yourself as heat began to pool between your legs. Sam slid your panties off and put them to his face. Sam moaned as he breathed in the scent on your panties.

"Sam, please. Let me go." The knife went back to your throat as Sam stuffed the panties into your mouth and placed himself between your legs.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, Y/N. I'm in control." Sam whispered into your ear as he slid a single finger into your wet pussy. Sam moaned at the feel of your wet pussy and you felt the force on your body lifting with each pump of Sam's finger. This can't be happening again, you thought to yourself as you felt your body responding to Sam's actions more and more with each pump of his finger, this isn' t Sam.

It was as if Sam got struck by lightning the way he shot up and tore your shirt from your body to leave your bra left to conceal your almost naked body. Sam's other hand groped and rubbed your breasts as he added another finger into your soaking wet pussy.

"Sam…" you let out a frustrated moan through your panties. Sam brought his lips back down to your neck to bite and kiss down to your breasts. Suddenly, Sam's fingers disappeared from your pussy and were on your breasts now as they kneaded and pulled your breasts out of your bra so that Sam could gather your nipples into his mouth. One by one, he nipped and sucked on both of your nipples until your head was spinning. I shouldn't be acting like this… I should be fighting! Quickly, you thrust your body up to try and throw Sam off of you and to at least sit up, but that only made things worse. The force that had held you down before held you against the bed once more as Sam put the knife against your breast.

"You really shouldn't do that, Y/N. I told you; I'm not going to hurt you." Sharp stings came from your breast as Sam dragged the knife across your breast to create a thin scarlet line. Blood started to bead up onto the line and Sam's boner against your leg twitched at the sight. You tried to shift away, turn away, anything to get away from Sam, but the force against your body was too strong. Sam licked his lips before lapping up the blood. Sam moaned with every lick and allowed his hand to slide back down your body and into your vacant pussy. You hated that these actions made you wetter by the second. This time, Sam added a third finger and his thumb rubbed against your clit. Sam's head shot up from your breast as you both heard yelling and gunfire from somewhere in the hotel.

"Sorry, Y/N. No time for romantics. Looks like we're gonna have to speed this up." Sam situated himself between your legs and his cock sprung free as he pulled down his pants and boxers. Your eyes widened as Sam took the knife and made the cut on your breast deeper to where the blood beaded up faster. As soon as Sam latched his mouth onto your breast, he lined himself up to your entrance and entered you fast and hard. You gasped as his thrust quickly followed and almost choked on your panties. Sam moaned with each thrust as he lapped up more and more of your blood. You tried your hardest not to show it, but Sam's actions had you just about on the edge. Suddenly, Sam pulled away from your breasts and the blood and moved to your neck and looked like he was about to kiss you before remembering your panties were in your mouth.

"I wanna hear you cum, Y/N." Sam moaned into your ear before taking the panties out of your mouth and thrusting his tongue through your lips. He left no part of your mouth untouched before breaking the kiss and latching onto your breast once again. You couldn't hold it in any longer and as soon as Sam latched back onto your breast, your orgasm ripped through your body.

"Sam!" you moaned as your orgasm sent waves across your body and clenched around Sam, too. The sound of your heart pounding in your head faded out and, suddenly, you heard the yelling and gunshots coming closer. Sam wrapped his hand around your throat and lifted your ass off the bed as he thrust faster.

"My turn." And just like that, you felt Sam's body shake against yours and the heat of his orgasm spill inside you as a roar of ecstasy erupted from his lips with his orgasm.

The door burst open as Dean came bursting in with his gun pointed straight at Sam.

"Sammy! Get off her, now!" He cocked the gun and pointed it back at Sam. When Sam looked at Dean, his eyes turned black as that devilish smile spread across his face.

"Until next time, Y/N." And just like that, he vanished as soon as Dean shot the tranquilizer and buried itself into the wall. You stared at the tranquilizer as Dean ran over to you and covered your body.

"Y/N, are you okay?! Did he hurt you? Did he-" You looked back at Dean and swallowed. Your muscles relaxed and you felt Sam's cum ooze out of your pussy sending a shiver up your spine that felt more like pleasure than fear.

"He fucked me, Dean. And as much as I hate to admit it, I liked it."

"Y/N, you have to remember that he isn't himself anymore. That demon blood they've got him hopped up on has control of Sammy. He isn't Sam." You looked back up to the tranquilizer dart and back to your breast where the blood had stopped and then back to Dean.

"Whoever he is now, he's gonna come back for more."

Chapter 3

You still had dreams about Sam, even after he gave his life to save the entire world from Lucifer. They were more like nightmares, though. Every night, it repeated in your head.

Sam and Adam stood across each other ready to fight when you and Dean pulled up in the Impala.

"Stay here, Y/N. This could get ugly." You nodded and watched Dean approach Sam and Adam.

"Howdy, boys. Sorry. Am I interrupting something?" Sam and Adam glanced at each other as Dean approached them, "Hey. We need to talk." Sam scoffed as Dean continued to approach them.

"Dean. Even for you, this is a whole new mountain of stupid." You had to remind yourself that it was Lucifer speaking right now, not Sam.

"I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to Sam."

"You're no longer the vessel, Dean," Michael spoke through Adam, interrupting Dean, "You got no right to be here." Dean gave a sad look at Adam. Adam was here and now the vessel because of him, you were sure that was what was going around inside Dean's head.

"Adam, if you're in there somewhere, I am so sorry."

"Adam isn't home right now," Michael snapped.

"Well, then you're next on my list, Buttercup." Dean looked back at Sam, "But right now, I need five minutes with him."

"You little maggot," Michael sneered, "You are no longer a part of this story!" Suddenly, Castiel and Bobby showed up behind them holding a Molotov cocktail.

"Hey, ass-butt!" You held back a giggle as Castiel threw the cocktail at Michael. Michael screamed as he erupted into flames and disappeared.

"Ass-butt?" Dean laughed at Castiel's choice of words.

"He'll be back-" Castiel breathed heavily, "-and upset. But you got your five minutes." Lucifer glared at Castiel.

"Castiel. Did you just Molotov my brother with holy fire?" Castiel backed away in fear.

"Uh… no." You watched worriedly as Lucifer walked towards Castiel.

"No one dicks with Michael but me." Sam brought his hand before him and as soon as he snapped his fingers, Castiel exploded in a rain of blood and chunks of angel flesh. The look of shock on Bobby's face made you finally step out of the Impala.

"No!" Dean yelled as you ran towards them, "Go back, Y/N." Lucifer chuckled at your entrance.

"I see you brought Sam's little play thing. The memories he has of you, my dear. Maybe I might spare you to relive those memories." You hid behind Dean as Lucifer looked you up and down.

"Enough! Sammy, can you hear me?" Lucifer's attention went back to Dean.

"You know… I tried to be nice…" Lucifer advanced towards the two of you, "for Sammy's sake. But you…" Lucifer gripped Dean's leather jacket tightly, "are such a pain… in my ass." Lucifer hoisted Dean up and threw him onto the windshield of the Impala. The glass shattered under his weight.

"As for you, Y/N," Lucifer pushed you to the ground. A force like the one Sam had used on you a year ago kept you from getting up, "Have a seat and enjoy the show." The sound of gunfire exploded in the air when Bobby shot Lucifer in the back. This only pissed him off even more. Bobby shot Lucifer again in the front when he turned around. With a twist of his hand, Lucifer snapped Bobby's neck and his lifeless body fell to the ground.

"No!" You and Dean cried out.

"Yes." Lucifer turned back to Dean and ripped him off of the Impala's hood and threw a hard punch. Dean fell back against the Impala and spit blood.

"Stop, please!" You yelled as Lucifer continued to beat Dean against the Impala.

"I'll stop when he's dead!" Dean got back up and looked back at Lucifer.

"Sammy? Are you in there?" A devilish grin spread across Sam's face as Lucifer punched Dean once again.

"Oh, he's in there, all right," Dean fell to the ground as Lucifer threw another punch, "And he's gonna feel the snap of your bones. Every single one," Lucifer brought Dean to his feet, "We're gonna take our time. And then we're gonna reminisce with little miss, Y/N, over there." Your eyes widened in fear. While Lucifer battered Dean with another ten punches, the force upon you lifted and you took the opportunity to throw yourself between Lucifer and Dean.

"Sam, please. You can fight him. Please." You looked back at Dean, his face now swollen and bleeding, as he put his hand out and placed it on Sam's jacket.

"Sam, it's okay. It's okay. We're here. We're here. We're not gonna leave you." Lucifer suddenly swiped you across the face, sending you to the ground so that he can continue to punch Dean, "We're not gonna leave you." Lucifer drew back his fist to punch Dean once more when something suddenly caught his eye. He froze like that for minutes before his fist suddenly unclenched and he gasped as he let go of Dean. Sam was back.

"It's okay, you guys," Sam reassured the two of you, "It's gonna be okay. I've got him." Sam reached into his pocket and grabbed the Horsemen's rings before he tossed them onto the ground. Your heart dropped as you realized what he was doing.

"Sam?" Your eyes began to water as you watched him.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I have to do this." You shook your head and sobbed as Sam took a breath and uttered the incantation, "Bvtmon tabges babalon." Suddenly, the ground began to cave in around the rings and air began to be sucked into the hole. As the hole began to widen, Sam looked back at the two of you. As Sam was about to jump in, Michael reappeared.

"Sam! It's not gonna end this way. Step back!" You moved towards Sam.

"No, Y/N," He looked back at Michael with defiance in his eyes, "You're gonna have to make me!

"Sam, please! We can figure this out!" You pleaded Sam, but he kept his attention to Michael.

"I have to fight my brother, Sam! Here and now! It's my destiny!" Sam looked back at Dean as he stepped closer to the hole. He nodded to him as a silent goodbye. Then he looked back at you and tears began to well up in his eyes.

"Sam, wait!" You yelled as you ran towards him and wrapped your arms around him, "Please. We can figure this out." Sam cupped your cheek as he began to lead away from the hole. You smiled thinking he was going to give up on the suicide mission. Sam brought your face to his and kissed you passionately.

"I'm so sorry for things I did to you, Y/N. I love you so much, but I'm sorry." Sam pushed you away before you could keep him from running back to the hole.

"No!" You watched in horror as Sam closed his eyes, spread his arms out and fell into the hole. You raced towards the hole, but Dean grabbed you and held you down. You sobbed as the hole closed with a blinding light. Dean leaned back against the Impala and held you as you wailed.

With Sam gone, Dean had gone to keep his promise. He found Lisa and now was living that "apple pie life", as Sam called it, that he'd always wanted. But for you, that meant that you either had to try and get another life or hunt on your own. After many failed attempts to try and fit back into the normal life, you decided to go back into the hunting business. Which unfortunately left you to find hunts on your own.

"Here's your tools, kiddo." Bobby handed your hunting back to you.

"Thanks, Bobby."

As you were checking to see that you had all of your gear, Bobby went to go see who was at the front door.

"Y/N?" Bobby yelled back to you from the doorway.

"Yeah, Bobby?"

"I think you better come see who's at the door." Oh, great, you thought. With your luck, it was the demon you had been tracking finally caught up to you. You raced to the door but froze as soon as you saw who it was.

"Hi, Y/N." Dean waved at you. Your eyes wandered up at the giant figure with long brown hair and brown eyes that stood behind him. You felt a lump in your throat as tears welled up and you tried to say his name.

"Hey, Y/N." You smiled as the tears fell from your face.

"Sam." You didn't care that Dean and Bobby were right there, you ran right up to Sam and wrapped yourself around him to kiss him. Sam shushed you as you sobbed against the kiss in happiness.

"Come on." You spoke through the tears as you grabbed Sam's hand and dragged him upstairs to your bedroom. You broke away from Sam only for a moment so that you could shut and lock the door before going back to kissing him. You began ripping yours and Sam's clothing off and edged back to the bed with Sam in tow.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" You laughed, finished with crying, and stopped undressing him.

"What does it look like I'm doing, Sam? It's been a year without you. A year. And all I wanna do right now is make up for old times. And what better way than with sex, huh?" You chuckled and continued to pull off your pants and shirt. Sam stopped you before you could take off your tank top.

"Y/N, I need to tell you something." You froze as your heart sunk.

"You found someone else, didn't you? Oh god! I'm such an idiot!" You screamed and the tears came back again. Sam shushed you with a passionate kiss.

"No, Y/N. That's not it." You sniffed and looked back at him.

"Okay, then what is it?"

"I'm not the same guy I was before the cage, Y/N. I-"

"I don't care how different you are. You're still my Sam." You cupped his cheek and brought his forehead to yours. Sam sighed and placed his hand around your waist.

"True. And I'm still your Sam that loves to fuck you." You shivered in pleasure at his words.

"God, I've missed you." You moaned as you pushed Sam back onto the bed and climbed on top of him. You lips danced against each other and you ground against his hardening length.

"Take your shirt off, Y/N," Sam commanded. You liked the stern tone in his voice as you obeyed and took off your shirt and took his hands to slid up your body and grab your breasts. Sam moaned at the feel of your breasts in his hands, "I've missed these." You laughed and pulled away so that you could pull his pants and boxers down so his cock sprung free.

"Suck it," Sam ordered. Sam's firm tone sent shivers across your body and obeyed once more. You took his cock in your hands and licked a steady strip along his length from base to tip. Sam sucked in air as you licked again and took only the tip into your mouth and sucked hard. Sam's hand grabbed your hair and forced you to go down on him. Your head bobbed up and down as his hand guided you to do so. Without warning, Sam held your head and began to thrust his cock in and out of your mouth.

"Enough." Sam barked as he lifted you back towards him and spread your panties to the side. Your lips found each other once more and his tongue forced past your lips to leave nothing untouched. You moaned as he rubbed his cock against your wet pussy.

"Sam…" you begged. Sam smiled and grabbed your breasts harshly. The pain sent waves of pleasure through your body.

"I like it when you beg, Y/N." You looked back at him with a devilish grin spread across your face. You began to rub your wet pussy along his length as he ground his cock against it.

"Please, Sam. I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck my tight, wet pussy." You emphasized the last three words and Sam looked like he just about came undone. Sam gave in to your plea and lined his cock up with your entrance before sinking you down onto your cock.

Your moans echoed throughout the room as your pussy enveloped his cock from tip to base. Sam grunted as he thrust his hips quickly to make you bounce against him. Sam wasn't kidding when he said he wasn't the same, you thought to yourself, he never fucked me like this. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure as his thrusts became faster.

"Sam!" You moaned loudly as Sam sat up and changed the angle so that he could kiss you. He reached around and grabbed your breasts and watched them bounce as his other hand snaked down to rub your clit.

"I wanna see you cum, Y/N. It's been far too long since I've seen you cum for me." It didn't take you long with the way he was groping you, kiss you, sending sweet ecstasy throughout your body before your orgasm ripped through you with a pleasure filled shriek. Sam followed suit with a roar when your pussy clenched around his twitching cock as his orgasm ripped through him as well.

"A year really was a long time," Sam said as the two of you laid back in the bed breathing heavily.

"Yes, it was.


	2. The change (SamReader)

The Change

Summary:After a witch casts a spell on y/n and Sam, y/n finds herself as an alpha while Sam becomes omega. Secrets are revealed as they care for eachother until they can find a cure. If they find one.

"What the hell did you do to them?!" Dean shouted at the witch, gun loaded with witch killing bullets pointed at her. They had been on a case just outside of Lebanon. An omega witch was running around changing biologies. Alphas into omegas and omegas into alphas. After finding out who she was, they learned that her alpha mate had betrayed her. Now her mission was to damn all the male alphas by forcing them to be omegas, and 'empowering' female omegas by turning them into alphas. The result was both parties dead within a week, not knowing how to deal with the sudden biological changes.

"What do you think?" She gave Dean a wicked grin and looked passed him, where you and Sam both lie unconscious on the warehouse floor.

Dean knew exactly what she had done, but he wanted her to say it so he could get a cure from her. You, Sam, and Dean had tracked her down to an abandoned warehouse. When they entered she casted a spell. Dean, being beta was the only one unaffected, but on the other hand his alpha brother and omega best friend had taken the hit. The force of the spell sending them both unconscious.

"Fix them! Now!" Dean shouted and she laughed.

"But we haven't even gotten to the fun part! Just wait until they wake up." She cackled like the gun didn't scare her.

"Cure now. Or you're dead." Dean threatened harshly, trying to get his message across.

The witch rolled her hazel eyes. "If there was a cure, which there isn't, why would I give it to an alpha wannabe like you? Storming in here all macho, pretending like you're not beta. You should feel lucky you don't have to deal with any of that heat and rut nonsense."

"Says the omega." He scoffed, getting fed up quickly.

"Exactly. I'm omega, I know how awful it is! I know what it's like having an alpha around," she looked over at Sam's unconscious body and snickered. "That should knock him down a peg or two. And her?" She shifted her gaze to your body. "I did her a favor. Do you know how much power a female alpha has?"

"Yeah, well your little spell is killing people. Alphas and omegas." At Dean's world she looked taken back.

"What do you mean? The men are supposed to die, obviously." she stated like it was casual causing Dean to roll his eyes.

"Yeah, well the women are dying too. And it's all your fault." He shifted to the 'Sam strategy' as he called it. To try and make the monster feel empathy.

She looked down, mind obviously racing. "Kill me." She said after a long moment, looking Dean in the eyes. "There's no cure. Just kill me. I don't deserve to live after putting those women thro-"

Hearing there was no cure and her asking for death, Dean pulled the trigger. He should have felt worse, but 16 people were dead, and you and his brother were her next victims. Her body dropped to the ground and Dean turned. He watched as you started to stir, but Sam was still out of it.

Dean rushes to your side and helps you sit up. "Dean?" Your voice is hoarse and scratchy. You could barely open your eyes and there was a pounding pain in your head.

"Yeah, sweetheart, it's me. How are you feeling?" He asks gently, knowing the spell the witch cast worked, he can scent the change.

"I feel….weird. Tired." You finally open your eyes fully and look around the room. All you saw was dirty warehouse walls and floors until you spotted the witch's crumpled body. "Nice job."

Dean made sure you were fully awake and steady, then moved to Sam, who was still unconscious. "Sammy?" Dean rapidly patted Sam's cheek in an attempt to wake him. Sam groaned lightly and you moved over next to Dean.

"Dean, the witch...she...Everything feels different. Everything smells different. Sam," you eyes widened as you sniff the air. "Sam's omega."

"Yeah, she changed you guys." Dean said as he kept trying to wake up Sam.

"And you killed her!" You hadn't meant to be so fantic, but it felt like your whole body was changing. "Dean, she could have cured us, she-"

"She said there was no cure. After she found out the women died too instead of just the men, she begged me to kill her. I think she actually felt guilty." Dean explained as Sam's eyes fluttered open. "Hey there, Sammy."

Sam's eyes completely bypassed Dean, landing directly on you. "Your scent…." he muttered out, but you knew what he meant. Sam smelled entirely different. Rather than his usual musky scent that made you feel at home, his scent was lighter, sweeter. It wasn't bad, but you didn't like the change.

"Sammy, the witch got the drop on us. She-"

"She changed us and Dean killed her!" You interrupted him, voice a mixture of panic and frustration. Dean sighed but didn't blame you. It must have been strange, terrifying even.

"You what?!" Sam was definitely awake now. He tried to sit up, but a sharp pain like nothing he'd ever felt before shot through him. He groaned and dropped back to the ground.

Sam clenched his eyes shut, while your eyes grew to the size of saucers. "Dean, we need to get Sam home. Now."

Dean knew exactly what was happening. Even as a beta he could scent it. "What's going on?" Sam's voice was strained as more pain shot through him. "I don't-"

"Sam, can you stand?" You interrupted. You knew exactly what was about to happen and Sam needed to get home as fast as possible.

Dean panicked at the tone in your voice. You sounded so commanding. He didn't think you realized the power an alpha had.

"I can try, but please tell me what's happening. Am..am I…." Sam was pulling himself up to sit on his knees. His eyes were wide and his skin was dotted with sweat. He looked to you, and you knew exactly what he was asking.

You nodded and sighed. "You're going into heat." He bit his lip in pain as his insides churned. His eyes were squeezed shut as Dean helped him stand. "I don't think I should be near him right now." You muttered to Dean, who sighed and nodded. He had seen how Sam got when you were in heat. If Sam got to close to you it'd send him into a rut.

Thankfully, you had driven up in your own car. You and Dean had gotten into an argument about how he always blasted the heat too high, so he said if you didn't like it then to drive your own car. Turns out that was lucky.

"I'm gonna get him back to the bunker." Dean informed as he helped Sam towards the warehouse door.

"I'll get rid of the body." You concluded with a nod to Dean. Once he got Sam out the door, the impala started a few moments later. Once you heard the car take off, you sighed. God, this was going to be a challenge.

After the body was taken care of, you found a motel to stay at. You were absolutely exhausted and it was nearly midnight. You needed sleep.

Just as you were about to get out of your car, your phone rang. Dean's name flashed across the screen and you answered it before the second ring.

"Hey, Dean. Everything okay?"

"You gotta come back. I- I don't know what to do. His heat or whatever you call it for dude omegas is in full swing. He won't let me help, he's asking for you." Dean sounded absolutely panicked and you started up the car.

"Okay, I'm on my way back. I need to stop and something for myself. I'm an alpha now, and I don't feel like going into a rut." You had no idea how that would go; and you didn't plan on finding out.

"Okay. Just, hurry please." Dean was quiet for a moment and you heard a pained groan and a muffled voice in the background, obviously it was Sam. "Yeah, she's on her way, calm down! I gotta go, y/n. Just- just hurry." And with that, Dean hung up.

On your way to the bunker you found a 24 hour pharmacy. A nice pharmacist gave you an over the counter medication to suppress female alpha urges. She also gave you sedatives as well, which worked for all biologies. Those were for Sam though. You knew how awful heats could be, the thought of him suffering without some kind of help worried you.

You texted Dean when you were about 20 minutes from the bunker. He responded with telling you Sam locked himself in your room.

"Dean?" You called when you entered the bunker library. He came rushing out, looking like a mess.

"Oh, thank god." He pulled you into a hug, squeezing the hell out of you.

"Squishing me." You gasped out when you couldn't breathe. He pulled back and apologized. "How's Sam. Never mind, dumb question. What can I do to help?"

"He's being difficult to say the least. He kept asking where you were and why you weren't with us. I've never seen him so desperate...he's worrying the hell out of me." Dean admitted raking his hand through his messy hair.

"I stopped at a pharmacy and got myself some suppressants and some sedatives to help him sleep, where's he at?" You had taken your medication in the car, so it had already taken effect.

"He's still in your room. Being in there seemed to be the only thing that calmed him down." Dean explained as you both rushed to the room. You knew it was because Sam was seeking out your scent. It was something omegas did when their mates weren't close and they were scared. The thing that confused you was that you and Sam weren't mates, or anything remotely more than friends.

"Sam?" You knocked on your own bedroom door, which was odd. A groan came from inside followed by footsteps. The door unlocked and Sam peaked out. You didn't have to see him to know he was soaked in sweat, no doubt suffering the effects of being an omega in heat.

"Y/n…." Sam muttered and opened the door all the way. Before you could speak a word, Sam's large hand grasped your wrist and yanked you inside. The door was slammed shut, keeping Dean on the other side. Sam's body pinned you to the door and he buried his nose in the crook of your neck. He inhaled deeply and whined, bucking his hips forward. You could feel his erection through his pants as he continued to scent you.

"Sam!" You gasped when he bit down on your ear. You pushed him backwards, completely startled by his actions.

"Oh god, y/n I'm so, so, sorry. I- I didn't mean to do that I-" Sam stuttered out, his face bright red.

"It's okay, you're just adjusting. You've never had to deal with being omega before, it's understandable you're frantic." You gave him a soft smile and he nodded. "Can you sit down?" You gestured to the bed.

"It's so weird hearing you call me omega." He admitted when he sat down.

"This whole situation is absolutely insane." You chuckled as you set the plastic bag on your dresser and pulled out the sedatives.

"What's that?" Sam craned his neck to try and look, but all he could see was your back. The image of seeing your back bare as he thrust into you from behind appeared in his mind, renewing his arousal.

"Sedatives. Whenever my heats are really bad, these help me sleep." You informed and brought him the pill. "I'll go get you some water." Before you even finished the sentence, Sam had taken the pill dry.

"Don't leave." He looked up at you, eyes wide and pleading. "I- I don't know how to deal with this."

"I'm not going anywhere." You assured. "So, I guess we're gonna camp out in my room?" You said teasingly, but his eyes shifted down.

"I'm sorry, y/n. I should have asked, but I- I don't know how to explain. You weren't here and this was the next best thing." You didn't think he could get any redder, but he proved you wrong. "It smelled like you in here. It made me feel better."

"Sam, calm down, I'm not upset." You sat next to him, grasping his large hand in your smaller one. "It's normal of omegas to seek out familiar scents to calm them down. Dean's beta so it wouldn't help, so you came in here. If anything it's a compliment. It's basically you saying you feel safe with me." You smile at him, and he meets your eyes fully for the first time.

"You do make me feel safe." The way he mutters it you can tell the sedatives are kicking in quickly. He was most likely already exhausted, which made this a bit easier.

"You tired?" He nodded at your question.

"Can….can I stay in here….with you?" He seemed nervous asking, it was kinda cute. Sam was a 6ft 4in beast of a man, and yet here he was, nervous to ask if he could sleep in your room. Almost like a child.

You held back a giggle at his bashfulness, not wanting him to think you were making fun of him. "Of course. Just, let me change into my pajamas. I'm not gonna make you leave, but can you at least cover your eyes or turn the other way?" You asked when you stood and went to your dresser.

"Yeah, of course." You saw out of the corner of your eye that he had turned his back to you. You dug through your dresser and and pulled out a baggy shirt and a pair of sleep shorts. You changed quickly then through your old clothes in the laundry basket. "You can look."

Sam shifted back around, a smile gracing his lips when he saw you. "What?" You raised your brows.

"That's my shirt." He grinned even wider. It was nice to see him smile.

"I can give it back if you want." You flicked the light off then crawled into the bed.

"No, you keep it." He told you as he scooted over so you could get under the covers. "It looks better on you then it ever would on me." He adjusted the covers so you could both lie comfortably under them.

His whole body was stiff as he laid by you, so you scooted closer to him. He was always nervous when the two of you shared a bed on a hunt. Both the boys had learned over the years they'd shared motel rooms with you that you were a cuddly sleeper. You rested your head on his chest while your arm rested across his stomach. He wrapped an arm around you and held you next to him. Once you were in his arms, it didn't take him long to fall asleep.

The first thing Sam did when he awoke was reach for you, only to find the spot next him empty. "Y/n?" His eyes snapped open, fully awake and alert. He ripped off the covers and stood, scanning the room. When there was no sign of you he began to panic. He knew it was irrational, that you probably were in the bunker somewhere, but he couldn't help it. His need to be close to you was overpowering, banishing all rational thought from his mind.

"Y/n?" Sam called out once he was in the hallway. He waited a moment for a response, but he heard nothing. The pain returned as he walked, a throbbing centered in his abdomen. His need for you only growing stronger. It was one thing when he was surrounded by your omega scent in your room, but sleeping with you in his arms while you had the scent of an alpha? It drove him mad. Your scent hadn't changed, but it seemed to be amplified by a hundred.

He managed to make it into the kitchen to see you and Dean cooking pancakes. He sighed in relief at the sight of you, but panicked when he saw how close Dean was. You guys had obviously been messing around, you had powder pancake mix on your cheek and Dean had the powder all over his shirt in the shape of your small handprints. You were both laughing, causing a mixture of envy and happiness to swirl inside him. He was glad you were laughing, but jealous it wasn't him making you do so. He'd always been jealous of your relationship with Dean. You two had clicked in the beginning, while Sam had to work to gain your trust. He'd been infatuated from the moment he met you.

He knew you're relationship with Dean was more like brother-sister, but that didn't make him feel much better. As an alpha he'd get jealous and filled with inner rage, to the point he'd have to leave the room to not rip his brother away from you. But, as an omega, he just felt betrayed. You were his and he was yours. Despite that being how he felt, he knew it wasn't the case. You saw him as a friend, and he'd have suffer with that.

"Hey, Sammy! Y/n and I are makin' pancakes. You want some?" Dean asked when he finally noticed Sam in the doorway.

"I added vanilla and cinnamon to the mix, trust me they're delicious." You announced as you finished mixing the batter. "Pancakes are one of the few things I can actually cook." You had been grinning, but when you saw the look on his face it dropped. "Sam? You okay?"

Sam hadn't even realized, but his jaw was clenched and he had been glaring at Dean the whole time. Dean glanced at you then back at Sam, catching on a lot quicker. He knew how Sam felt about you, and was obviously threatened by Dean's presence. Some things never change, alpha or omega, rut or heat.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Sam spit out a lot harsher than he meant to. He took a deep breath and shook off the betrayal. You didn't know how he felt, it wasn't your fault. "I woke up and you weren't there. I got worried." Sam explained after clearing his throat.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't mean to worry you, but you finally looked at peace, I didn't wanna wake you." The way you said it made his heart melt. He cracked a small smile. Dean gave him a look, obviously confused by his mood swing. In Sam's defense, he had no idea what was happening to him either.

"So, you guys are making pancakes? Anything I can do to help?" Sam offered and walked forward. Once he was near you, the pain in his body was forgotten.

The next day Dean has found a lead on a wicken who could 'make any spell, cure, or potion'. He took off in the morning leaving you and Sam alone, which Sam was very thankful for. Seeing you with Dean doing something as simple as making breakfast nearly broke his heart, he didn't know if he could handle another morning like that.

That's why this time when he slept by you, he had his legs tangled with yours and his arms secure around you. This time he wanted to make sure you were there when he woke up. Thankfully you were.

The day had gone a lot smoother than had been expected. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you had given Sam every pain medication you could find in the bunker. It was getting late and Sam was in your room currently, watching some documentary on tv while you took a much needed shower.

You were surprised how unaffected you were by the omega. Maybe female alphas had a lot more control than male ones. You didn't know much about female alphas though. You'd have to google it sometime in the future.

You finished up your shower and slipped into your plaid pajama pants and tank top. You headed back to your room to find Sam after grabbing a water bottle from the kitchen.

The second you opened the door you were hit by Sam's overpowering scent. There was something else mixed in this time. Desperation.

"Sam?" You opened the door wider and got no response. He was definitely in the room, you were sure of that. The lights were all off, which made it hard to see. You flicked the light switch on and saw Sam curled up in a ball on the bed, his back to the door. "Sam, are you awake?"

"Alpha?" His voice came out as a groan and he rolled over to look at you. There was something wild in his eyes, almost feral. He sat up suddenly on his knees, eyes fixated on you.

"Sam, don't call me that." You demanded. That wasn't your natural title, even though it was a more respectable one, it felt like a lie. You gave him a look before you sat down on the bed across from him. "I grabbed you a water, here."

"Thank you." He accepted and drained nearly the whole thing while you got up to turn the light off.

"You okay?" You asked when you crawled under the covers. Sam simply hummed and held you close, running his fingers through your hair until you fell asleep.

You woke up not even an hour later to the feeling of a weight on you. You're back was flat against the bed, Sam settle between your legs, bucking into you. His cloth covered bugle very prominent, even through all the layers. His chest was pressed against yours, keeping you down while he had his face in the crook of your neck.

He whined into your ear a mile a minute. "Please, alpha. It hurts so much. I need you so bad. Let me make you feel good. I can make you feel good. I need you to knot me. I need you to claim me. I-"

"Sam stop." You struggled against his hold, but his hard chest was keeping you pinned. You remembered he hadn't taken the sedative before bed.

His muttering became incoherent when he buried his face even further into your neck. Inhaling your scent all while kissing and nipping at your neck.

"Sam-"

"Y/n please! I need you so bad. I need to be inside you. I need to cum. I'll make you feel so good I swear, alpha." He begged, lips right next to your ear. He bucked even harder against you, groaning at the friction he caused.

"Sam, stop!" Your voice was so commanding Sam froze. You put yourhands against his chest and pushed back lightly. He sat back kneeling, still between her legs. Even though it was dark you could see his shoulders slumped and head hung low. Without his weight you managed to get sitting up straight, pulling your legs away from him. You looked to Sam, but his eyes were cast down. You leaned over to the bedside table to click the lamp on, shedding light in the room.

"Please look at me." You said softly, but he refused to meet her gaze. "Sam…" You shifted to kneel in front of him. You reach forward, using gentle fingers to lift his chin. Your heart broke when you saw tears in his eyes. You felt terrible, Sam had no idea how to deal with being omega during heat, of course he was frantic. He must have been in pain and scared. On top of that, he had just been rejected by an alpha. An omega during heat being rejected could literally and figuratively destroy them. "Sam, I'm so sorry." You moved close you your knees touched his.

"C'mere." You said in barely a whisper and held out your arms. Sam accepted the gesture immediately and let her hold him in her arms. You rubbed your hand up and down his back in an attempt to soothe him.

"I'm sorry, y/n. I wasn't trying to hurt you. I just-" He choked on his words and dropped his head to your neck. You'd seen Sam cry maybe once or twice in the whole time you'd known him, but being omega his emotions were sky high. It was a part of the biology. "I don't know what's happening to me. I'd never hurt you."

"It's okay, Sammy. I know you're scared and hurting, but you have to understand this is scary for me to. I have no idea how to be an alpha." You explained as calmly as you could.

"It just hurts so bad. I don't know how to describe it. It's like every once of my body needs you. Being next to you I- I lost control. I didn't mean to scare you I-"

"I know Sam, and I'm sorry this is happening to you." You stroke his hair as he keeps his face buried in your neck.

"It's so overwhelming I- I don't know what to do. I don't even know what I need. All I know about male omegas is what I read online. They're so rare, there was barely anything." He explains softly.

"It won't be like this much longer, we're gonna find a cure. Dean's our following a lead right now. We'll get back to normal soon." You tell him gently.

"What if what if we don't? How are you so calm?" He finally meets your eyes and you chuckle lightly.

"I'm on a lot of pills to keep me calm and from going into a rut- if it's even called that for female alphas. I literally know nothing about them. That's why we can't do anything, Sam. We don't know how it will affect us when we change back. I don't think knotting is a good idea, and especially claiming isn't."

"I understand." He muttered. He knew you didn't want him and we're just trying to be nice. "It just hurts so bad. I'm sorry you always have to go through this. I- I never knew." He withdrew his head to look into your eyes.

"It's okay. Sammy. Why don't I get you the

sedatives so you can sleep, yeah?" He simply nods and you go grab them off the dresser.

"You're still letting me sleep by you?" Sam sounded insanely confused.

You handed him the pill and nodded. "I know what it's like being in heat, it's not fun. I don't blame you." You explain as he takes the pill. Once under the covers, you two shift into a spooning position, Sam being big spoon.

Sam's still hard against you back and you think about what has said before about 'needing to cum'. Your mind drifted back over the past few days and realize he'd always been with you or Dean majority of the time. He hasn't had any form of relief, which could be a defining cause of his actions.

"Sam?" You whisper softly. If he's already asleep, you don't want to wake him up.

"Yeah?" His voice is a deep rumble against the back of your neck. You could have just left it alone, but you knew it wouldn't do him much good. You didn't want a repeat of the earlier incident. You started to shift so you could face him, but his arms locked tight around you. "What are you doing?"

"Sam, I'm not leaving." His grip loosened at that, but he still held you to him. "I was trying to turn so I could look at you." At that he turned you himself and helped adjust until you were eye to eye. It was dark but you could see a hint of a smile on his lips.

You felt bad that you were about to ruin the moment, but you wanted to help. Something was different this time. Of course you wanted to help Sam, but the feeling in you was something stronger. It was the alpha in you wanting to help the omega. It was still ridiculous to think of yourself as an alpha, yet something about it felt almost natural. "Sam, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, of course." You could hear an underlying hope and excitement in his voice.

"Be honest with me, okay." You said firmly and waited for him to nod. "Since the….change," you had no idea what to call it honestly. You sighed and grabbed his hand, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb. "Have you been able to cum?"

"I-" Sam was obvious embarrassed, you didn't have to have the lights on to know he was as red as a tomato. You squeezed his large hand with your own in an attempt to calm him. "I haven't exactly," he cleared his throat. "Had the opportunity. I tried to… when I took a shower, but I couldn't. I don't know why." He was squirming around nervously, like he was trying to sink into the bed.

"It's okay, Sam. Thank you for telling me the truth." You brought your intertwined hands to your lips, pressing them against the back of his hand. You could have swore you heard him whine. That's when you shifted around again, until he was on his back and you were straddling him just below the waist.

"Y/n?" His voice was a mix of confusion and arousal has tried to buck his hips up. His big hands grasped your waist and tried to pull you fully onto his lap. When you wouldn't budge, he let out a frustrated groan. "What are you doing? I thought-"

"Shhh. Calm down, Sam. I'm gonna help." You moved further down his thighs, causing his hands to drop from your waist. You tucked your thumbs into the waist band of his sweatpants and paused. "Is this okay?"

"Yes. Please." He whined and bucked up. He was going to start getting desperate and agitated if you didn't act fast. You didn't know anything about being alpha, but you knew everything about being omega. You knew an omega in heat shouldn't be teased.

"I'm not gonna fuck you, Sam." You told him straight out. He started to whine and protest but you hushed him by pulling down the waistband of his pants. "But, I am gonna help you cum."

"Alpha, please." It was almost comical to see Sam whining and whimpering. Just a few days ago he was the macho alpha and now he was a desperate mess underneath your touch.

"Sam." You said firmly and he froze. You were about to scold him for calling you Alpha after you told him not to. But, you also understood it was instinct and it came natural. "You need to relax, okay?"

"I'm trying. I'm trying, but you're so close and I-" his words were cut off by a loud gasp when you pulled his hard cock from the confines of his pants. He was bigger than anyone you'd seen before, built like a true alpha. "Oh, god!" Sam groaned when you ran your thumb over the tip.

He was a panting mess already even though you had hardly touched him. "It's okay, Sam. Just relax." You spoke as you slowly jerked him. He was gasping and moaning out that he was close within moments. He'd been on edge for nearly three days, it was a miracle he hadn't exploded or something. He was twitching in your hand when you quicken your motions.

"I'm, I'm gonna- y/n!" He cried out his release. You'd realized when he was almost there and pushed his grey shirt up. His cum spurted onto his bare stomach and he groaned. You stroked him through until he was finished. His cock was still half hard when he finished, cum coating the back of your hand and his stomach. His body finally calmed down as he panted out his thankfulness. He was practically praising you and it felt nice.

Sam's head was lifted, hair a mess and eyes wild. He was embarrassed at how fast he had cum but the pleasure was still coursing through him. Without thought you lifted your hand to your lips and poked out your tongue, licking the drops of his release from the back of your hand. Sam groaned at the sight and dropped his head to the pillow.

"You feel better?" You asked and stood, retrieving a shirt from your dresser to clean yourself and his stomach.

"God, yes!" You giggled at his enthusiasm and he blushed. "Thank you, y/n." You pulled his boxers and pants back up, throwing the ruined shirt to the floor.

"You don't have to thank me, Sam." You'd be lying if you said you didn't find some pleasure in his. You liked that you could make him feel good. You'd always been attracted to Sam; you'd even go as far as to say you had a bit of a crush on him. But you wouldn't admit to yourself anything more than that.

"Yes, I do." He pulled you to lay down on his chest, arms wrapped around you. You snuggled against him as he pulled the covers over the both of you. "You didn't have to do that, so thank you."

"Well, you're welcome. I'm happy to help." You press a kiss to his chest as one of his hands move to stroke your hair. You could feel from your position he was still half hard. He was gently bucking his hips, like he didn't even realize he was even doing it. "Sam? Do you need to cum again?"

"I don't think I can." He admittedly truthfully. The the previous shyness had left both of you. "It's like I can't get close enough to you. Being around you is making me feel so…." You knew exactly what he meant. "But, if you leave I feel like it'd kill me." He held you tighter against him.

You understood his dilemma, and got an idea. "Do you trust me?" You rested your chin on his chest so you could look up at him.

"More than anything." He nodded.

"If you don't think you can handle it, or don't like it, tell me. Okay?" You pull away to lay beside him. Sam wasn't sure what you meant, but nodded. He wasn't lying when he said he trusted you. "Let's move onto our sides." You both shifted and he nuzzled his head into your shoulder. His breathing was heavy, scenting you. "I need you the take your pants off." Sam didn't even question, instead simply taking action. He got them past his waist and you felt his cock hit your stomach. He wasn't fully hard, but enough that this would work.

"I don't want you to feel like you have to do anything else for me." Sam spoke up finally once he was completely bare below the waist. Of course he wanted you, he had even before he was in this condition. But he didn't want you to do anything you didn't want to. He'd never forgive himself if he made you feel forced into anything. He was about to tell you that you don't owe him anything, but it came out as a groan when he realized you were removing your own bottoms.

"I know. I want to." You kicked your bottoms off then wrapped your leg over his hip. His cock nudged at your entrance and you whined. The sound made him buck forward.

"Can I touch you? Please?" He asked, feeling bold in that moment. He'd never been so submissive in his life than he had been with you in the past few days. Whenever he was in the bedroom, he was the boss. But here he was, begging you to let him touch you.

"Gently." You murmured and guided his hand to your pussy. You moved your hand to his forearm and he bit his lip. After wanting for so long to touch you, he was finally able to. He couldn't see what he was doing from under the covers, so he relied solely on his sense of touch.

He thumbed at your clit before sliding his index and middle finger into you. He moaned when he found you were already wet. Had you been like this the whole time? The thought made his cock even stiffer. He eased his fingers in and out, curing them inside you, drawing out whimpers and opening you up. He felt you clenching around him and he picked up speed. He wanted nothing more than to feel you cum.

"Sam, stop." His motions paused, terrified he had hurt you or you changed your mind. He looked up and saw you were calm, not frightened or angry. You pushed his hand away and he whined, but it turned to a groan when you wriggled a hand between your bodies and grasped his cock. You adjusted so the head rested right at your now wet entrance.

You guided him inside you, the stretch of him absolutely delicious. Sam moaned and gripped your hips, pulling you impossibly closer, causing his cock to slide all the way inside you. Sighs of pleasure escaped you both as he started to buck his hips. It was almost too much. He was so long and thick, nearly breaking you open.

"Sam, don't move. Stay just like this." You whispered and stroked his hair. His whole body was vibrating, you needed him to relax.

"What?" He was practically breathless. Your tight warmth around him was too much. He'd waited for years to be close to you like this, and now he had to stay still. He wasn't sure if he could even manage that.

"Just relax, Sam. This way we're close and eases some of you pain." You took a deep breath to keep yourself from clenching around him. "Try and sleep."

Despite his confusion, he stilled. As you stroked his hair he felt himself calming down. Your legs tangled with his as he started to kiss your neck. You tilted your head give him access.

This was more intimate than either of you had ever been with anyone. Every part of you was touching, the room so quiet you could hear each other's heart beats. For Sam this was total bliss. This moment meant more to him than anything he'd ever experienced. He knew if he had a heaven when he died, it would be this moment. He'd never been so close to you before. He'd never felt the kind of connection with anyone else that he currently felt with you. He was utterly infatuated. His need for you was like oxygen. It was like he couldn't breathe when you weren't near. He had you and never wanted you to leave him. Your bodies were connected making two halves a whole. You and Sam allowed sleep to overtake you, feeling a peacefulness that was foreign to both of you.

Sam awoke before you, finding only the head of his cock inside you. He was still hard and now aching for release. His need to slam into you and for you to knot him was driving him insane. He didn't want to hurt you, didn't want to do anything you didn't want. He'd never be able to live with himself if you harmed your body with his own.

He bit his lip to the point he drew blood. He was breathing heavily through his nose, trying to calm himself. He didn't want to wake you up, but he needed to be back inside you. It had been your idea after all in the first place.

He was about to push himself into you, but you turned in your sleep. His cock fully slipped from your warmth as you turned. Now you were on your belly, head turned away. It was probably for the best. You had spent so much time taking care of him, it was about time you were able to rest.

Sam's stomach growled, making him realize he hadn't eaten in a while. He found his boxers on the floor and slid them on before heading out the door. Once in the kitchen he made himself something to eat. It had been less than ten minutes, but he had been without you too long for his liking. Sam headed back to the room and when he got to the door, he heard you talking.

"Dean, I'm helping him the best I can. Male omegas are different from female ones." He realized you were on the phone with Dean, talking about Sam. He peeked through the door and watched as you redressed yourself.

"Have you two...y'know… done it?" Sam heard Dean's voice responded and realized you had his brother on speaker phone.

"No, we didn't."

"I'm not saying to do anything you don't wanna, but you do remember what happened to the other victims, don't you?"

You sighed. "Yeah, I know. The omegas died from the heat pains 'cause they couldn't find a female alpha and vice versa. Trust me, I've been thinking about it the whole time."

"I'm just sayin'. I don't want anything to happen to you guys. I know you said you've been helping Sammy out, but what about you?"

"I'm fine, Dean. I've been taking pills so I don't go into a rut. I don't want to have to, um,"

"Knot him?"

"I don't even know how it works! On guys I get it, that makes sense to me. This doesn't. I don't even know how my own body works right now and it's frustrating." You explained to Dean. As Sam listened, he felt terrible. You'd spent this whole time caring for him and he hadn't once realized you were having the same struggles.

"I'm not gonna lie, I'm surprised you're holding out."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You and Sam." Dean said simply and cursed. Of course Dean was gonna tell you, and he couldn't stop him without you knowing he'd been eavesdropping. "You guys are practically mates already."

"What are you talking about? Sam and I are friends." Your words stung Sam. He knew you weren't trying to upset him, but it still hurt.

"Look, I'm gonna tell you something, okay?" Dean told you and Sam's heart stopped. "Sam's in love with you. Has been for a while." You were completely silent. Sam couldn't tell if that was a good sign or a bad one. "Y/n? You there?"

"Dean, that's not funny." Your voice was stern, almost scolding.

"It wasn't a joke."

"Sam's not in love with me. Sam's Sam and I'm….me." Your voice had gotten quiet.

"What does that even mean? Just, think about it. Since you moved in with us, have you ever seen him go out during a rut?" Dean asked. Sam wanted to barge in and tell him to shut the hell up, but he also wanted to see what you'd say. "He doesn't leave because he doesn't want anyone else. I'm his brother, I know him better than he knows himself. He only wants you."

"Dean…"

"I'm gonna tell you something you can't ever repeat, okay?" Dean's voice was extremely serious. "A few months back when you were in heat and Sam and I left, for a few days, remember?" You hummed in response. "We ended up at a bar Sam got absolutely hammered."

"Where is this going, Dean? I've got to go make sure Sam isn't passed out in the hall or something."

"He said he wished you'd let him claim you. He said he wanted to be your mate, that he loved you. He said he wanted pups."

"That's- you're messing me. I don't know what game you're playing with me Dean, but please stop." Sam frowned at your tone. Your voice wasn't angry this time, you just sounded sad.

Dean sighed. "Fine. Don't believe me. Like I said, I've got the cure and I'm on my way back. It'll be a few hours, though. Can you make it that long?"

"I've been dealing with everything just fine, Dean. Just please hurry." Then the room went silent, signaling you had hung up. He was about to leave but then the door opened. "How long have you been standing there?" You looked up at him with worry in your eyes.

Sam's mind raced as his emotions spiraled inside him. "You've been dealing with everything? Or did you mean you've been dealing with me?" He finally spit out, voice full of hurt. "Sorry to be an inconvenience. I'll leave you alone." Before Sam even realized what he had said he had stomped off to his room and locked the door. He hadn't meant to snap at you, but it just came out. He knew he couldn't manage to face you, so he opted to slump to floor and press his back to the door.

"Sam? That's not what I meant! Open the door, please?" You were outside knocking frantically. He didn't know why your words set him off, he chalked it up the the omega hormones. He knew that was a lie though. He thought after last night you had connected on a level more than friends. He had his complete trust in you when he was inside you. He felt protected, loved. Like he was finally whole. Sam was sure you felt the same way. Turns out he was just another problem you had to deal with.

That hurt him more than anything.

"Just go!" Sam's voice boomed and it nearly scared you. You weren't sure how much he had heard, but he was taking it the wrong way.

"Is it true?" You asked after a few moments of silence. You assumed he'd been listening to the whole conversation between you and Dean if he was this upset.

Sam knew he'd been caught. There was no point in denying it anymore. "Yes" Sam spoke up after a few more minutes of quiet. You'd sat down on the floor, pressing your ear to the door, trying to hear him.

You swallowed the lump in your throat at his confession. You thought Dean had been messing with you, but he was telling the truth. "All of it?" You need to know.

"Yes." Sam replied again.

"Even the part about the pu-"

"Yes, y/n! It's all true, okay?" He shouted through the door. "Can you just go, please?" Truth was, staying away from you hurt him, but he wasn't sure he could face you at the moment.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You asked calmly despite his harsh tone. He didn't respond. You heard shuffling and thought he was going open the door. You stood quickly and waited, but it never opened. You heard a light creak from his bed and realized he was going to lay down and had no intention of letting you in. You sighed. "Dean's on his way back with a cure."

After you informed him, you headed to your room. It smelled like a mixture of your scents and you inhaled it. You had been lying to yourself for a while, but there was no point anymore. You had told yourself it was just a crush you'd get over. But that wasn't the case.

You realized you loved Sam a few months ago. You'd been on a hunt and had woken up from a nightmare. You knocked on his motel room door, and instead of yelling at you or making fun of you, Sam hugged you and told you everything would be okay. He told you that he would never let anything bad happen and held your through the night.

When Dean said Sam felt the same, and had for much longer, you were shocked. You didn't believe him until Sam confirmed it. You climbed into bed and grabbed your phone. You put on your special sad music playlist and sulked. You really hadn't meant to upset Sam. You didn't think he'd ever feel the same. You thought you weren't good enough for him. Turns out you were wrong.

"You're an asshole!" Sam shouted into the phone the second Dean answered. Sam has tried to sleep, but couldn't. He resulted to pacing to distract him from the pain in his chest.

"Whoa! What the hell?" Dean sounded shocked and confused.

"You just had to tell her, didn't you? I'm supposed to be able to trust you!" Sam ranted into the phone, hearing Dean sigh.

"In my defense, that was a private conversation. I didn't know you were listening."

Sam scoffed. "Like that makes it better? You're such a jerk! There was a reason I didn't want her to know! I didn't even want you to know!"

"Sammy, calm down-"

"Do not tell me to calm down, dude."

"Fine, but stop yelling at least. Take a deep breath." Dean paused to see if Sam would yell again. When he didn't, Dean continued. "She thought I was messing with her, maybe she doesn't believe it."

Sam's entire demeanor changed as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "What do you mean she doesn't believe it?"

Dean sighed. "She thinks she's not good enough for you, okay? She doesn't think you'd want her."

"But I do!"

"Yeah, well I know that. But she doesn't." Dean explained. How had he become the buffer between his brother and best friend? Dean had no idea, wishing they'd just talk to each other instead of having him keep their secrets.

"How could she think that? She's perfect. If anything I'm the one who doesn't deserve her." Sam's brows furrowed. How could you think that? There was nothing he wanted more in the world. He loved you no matter what.

"You two are so blind I swear. Listen, you love her, she loves you. What's the problem?"

"The fact that you were the one who told her!" Sam's annoyance renewed. "If I wanted to say something I would have done it myself."

"We both know that's a lie!" He could hear the mix of amusement and annoyance in Dean's voice. "You've been wanting to say something for years. Literally years, Sam. That's not me being dramatic, either. It's literally been y-"

"I get it, okay!" Sam interrupted. He knew his brother was right.

"Look, I'm only about an hour away with a cure. We'll get you two fixed, then you can play out your love story. Just, give me a chance to get out of the bunker before you do." Sam knew what Dean was implying and rolled his eyes.

"Fine. I'm still mad though. You had no right to tell her." Sam warned. Knowing Dean had a cure made him calm down. Before Dean could say anything else, Sam hung up.

You loved him. You actually loved him. He dropped his back to the bed and stared at the ceiling. He cursed himself for not telling you sooner. He threw his arm over his eyes. Why did he have to be so stupid? If he had just been honest with before, you could be together. Instead you were locked in separate rooms. He wanted to run to you. To grab you and kiss you and tell you he loved you. To hold you and never, ever let you go.

In reality, he didn't know if he could face you. The omega part of his was terrified. He'd yelled at you, told you to leave. Would you still want him after he treated you like that? The fear of rejection kept him in the room. It was just him and the sound of his own heart beat for what felt like an eternity. Then there was a knock on the door.

He scrambled to his feet as was at the door in seconds. He smiled when he saw you. "I wasn't sure you'd open the door." You said softly, looking up at him.

"I'm sorry." Sam apologized, eyes on your nervous form.

You exhaled a small laugh of relief. "That's what I was gonna say."

"You have nothing to be sorry about, y/n. I- I was being a dick." He assured and took a chance, pulling you into his arms. Your arms circled around his waist, head resting on his chest.

"It's okay, Sam. This is complicated for both of us." Your voice was gentle and quiet. "But...I need to tell you something." You fiddled with your hands and his heart pounded out of his chest. "I've had feelings for you for a while." You sighed and continued. "If after all this you don't feel the same i get it. I-"

"I love you. So much, baby. So, so much." He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You looked up to him and he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. Your lips were so soft, he'd dreamt of this for so long. Your hands moved to grasp the back of his neck. You moaned into his mouth and allowed his tongue to slide into yours.

"Sam." You gasped his name when he bit your bottom lip. Your voice was so desperate, it sparked something in him. He pulled you into the room, frantic kisses being shared as he guided you to the bed.

"Need you, y/n." He groaned into your ear when your back dropped to the bed. He was used of being the one in charge in the bedroom. He spent his whole life taking orders, being bossed around. But, when he got under the covers it was a way for him to take back that control. But now in his current omega state, he was torn.

He needed you so desperately. He wasn't sure if he would be able to stay in control of the situation. "You have me, Sam. You'll always have me." You assured and ground against him. He groaned and buried his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.

"Can I taste you?" He asked, thumbing your nipples through your shirt. "Please?"

"Yes, Sam." You gasp out when he nips at your collar bone. Moving faster than light Sam has your shirt over your head and is pressing kisses as he inched his way down your body

"Are you sure this is okay? That you want this? That…..that you want me?" Sam locked his eyes with yours as you watched him. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were wide. It was perfect. You were perfect.

"Yes, Sam. Always." Your voice was breathy and god it was amazing. Sam loved the look of pleasure in your eyes. And he had barely touched you.

Sam smiled and leaned up to press a hungry kiss to your lips. Before he could move back down the echo of the bunker door closing interrupted.

"Y/n? Sam?" Dean's voice called out and Sam sighed. He dropped his head to your shoulder and you moved your hand up to tangle in his hair.

"Of course he shows up now." Sam groans out in disappointment. You furrow your brows and moved to tilt his head up.

"Sam! This means we can get fixed back." You press your hands to his chest and wiggle out from under him. You threw your shirt back on smiled. "Come on!"

With some distance between the two of you he finally got some clarity. Dean was back with the potion. "You mean I don't have to be omega anymore?"

"That's exactly what I mean." You grab his hand and headed out into the hall. "Hopefully it works and I can go back to being omega." Usually any omega would kill for a chance to be alpha or even beta. But not you. You liked things how they were. Change just wasn't your thing. You wanted everything back to normal again.

Sam practically dragged you down the hallway and into the library. Just like you he wanted to be back to being normal. Or, as normal as the life of Sam Winchester could be. He never gave you enough credit for being an omega hunter. Dealing with heats and alphas must have been terrible, but you still one of the strongest people he knew. He had a new found respect for you and all omegas. Not that he hadn't respected you before, but now he could understand.

"There you are! Finally!" Dean held up a small vial in each hand with a grin on his lips. "Did I interrupt something?" It didn't take a genius to see you and Sam had been in the middle of something. Especially since you finally noticed your shirt was on backwards.

"Shut up." You groaned and surprisingly Dean listened. You were gonna miss his compliance. "Which one do I take!" You looked between the two vials. They were both blue but the one in his right hand was much darker.

"This one's for you." He extended the lighter vial to you. "And this one's for you Sam." He handed the darker one to his brother.

"And you're sure this will work?" Sam questioned with his eyebrows raised.

"Yup. I promise. I watched the guy make it himself." You and Sam stared at each other for a moment, debating on whether you should trust the potions. Dean sat down in one of the chairs and looked at you and Sam expectantly. "C'mon drink it already."

"Cheers." You gestured your vial to Sam before drinking it. You cringed at the flavor. It reminded you of the taste of drinking orange juice after brushing your teeth. Sam followed suit.

"Ugh." Sam makes a face. "You're sure this will work?" Before Dean could responded, you cried out and Sam groaned. You could feel your biology changing back in seconds.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Dean looked between the both of you with a small relieved smile. He could scent that everything was back to normal. The smile quickly dropped when he realized you were in heat and Sam was in a rut. "Are you guys oka-"

"Leave." Sam had been watching you the whole time, but his head whipped to look at Dean. His voice was a firm growl that Dean knew not to argue against.

"Sam…" your voice came out in a whine as you leaned against the table. Sam could scent your heat, making his pants grow tight and his rut worse.

He was at your side in a second. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, firm hands holding you arms. He listened as a chair scrapped across the floor and hurried footsteps headed to to bunker stairs. Sam grinned at having his alpha power back as he looked up to see his brother scurrying out of the bunker.

You pressed a kiss to Sam's cheek and tangled your hands in his hair. A deep groan left his lips when you gave a light tug. "I- I wanna be your omega." You voice was light, almost nervous. "I want...I want everything you want. If you want me."

Sam's heart was pounding in his chest. He finally had you. You wanted him just like he wanted you. "Yes, baby. 'Course I want you. I always have." His lips met yours for a rough yet passion filled kiss. "Mine." He growled against you lips before biting down and drawing blood from your bottom lip. You whined as his tongue poked out to lick the crimson from your lips.

"Yes, alpha." You hummed and tugged at his hair again. Something in him snapped when his title left your tongue. His hands grasped beneath your thighs and hoisted you up. You giggled and wrapped your legs around his narrow waist.

Your lips stayed together the whole way back to the room. The way you were positioned his bulge was right against your pussy. He could feel how wet you were and groaned against your hungry lips. Once he got you to the room, you were dropped onto the bed. Sam didn't even bother to take his time; instead gripping your shirt by the collar and tearing it in half.

"Sam!" You gasped out as he flipped you onto your stomach, pulling the shredded clothing from your body. He wanted his first time with you to last; to make you cum over and over on his fingers and tongue before finally burying himself inside you. But his rut was only getting worse and he couldn't wait. He watched as you scrambled onto your elbows and knees, arching your back. He knew you needed it fast and rough just like he did.

Moving as fast as he can manage, Sam yanked his own shirt over his head and your bottoms off. His hungry eyes drift down to where you're absolutely dripping for him and he groans. It wasn't just your body that wanted him, but it was you as a whole.

You arched your back up and moaned as he sunk his middle and index fingers into your channel. "Sam!"

"I've got you, 'mega. I'm gonna take good care of you. Make you mine." He trust his fingers in and out of you, opening you up. He remembered the night his had been inside you and made sure to open you up fully this time. He wanted this to be comfortable for you.

He pushed a third finger in and you gasped. "I need you opened up for me. Don't wanna hurt you." His hand on your hip squeezed down when you started to push back. He wanted to do all the work. He just wanted you to relax and let him make you feel good. You'd taken care of him this whole time, now it was his turn to return the favor.

Your hands twisted in the sheets as you moaned and clenched around his fingers. He felt you were close. Your whole body was practically vibrating. "I want you to be a good girl and cum on my fingers." He curled them inside you and the knot of pleasure building inside you snapped.

You cried out as your orgasm washed over you. Sam growled as your body squeezed his fingers. He gave you a moment to calm down before pulling his fingers from you. You whined at the loss but he hushed you. "Gonna fuck you now."

"Yes, alpha." You pushed your ass higher in the air as he finished undressing himself. He pressed kisses to your back as he lined the head of his cock up to your entrance. A surprised left your lips as he started pushing into you.

"Gonna ruin this pussy. Gonna make you mine. Nobody else's." He growled against your ear and slammed into you to the hilt. You shrieked at how full of him you were. "Oh god. You're perfect. So tight." His hip bones were digging into your backside and you loved it.

"Move, Sam. Please." You begged and pushed back against him.

"You wanna be mine? Want me to knot you?" He pulled back slightly before sliding back in. "You want me to claim you, 'mega?" His voice sounded so loud but in reality he was merely growling into your ear.

"Yes! I want it! I want it all. I wanna be yours alpha I-" your pleads were cut off with a moan when Sam pulled all the way out and thrust back in. He wanted to hear you beg for him but he couldn't hold back. His rut was only getting worse and so was your heat. It was what you both needed.

This time he kept moving. Trusting in and out roughly. It was like his cock was wrapped in soft, wet, velvet. Just like before you were the best thing he'd ever felt.

You cried out under him as you felt him touch places inside you that you hadn't known existed. Before when you were both entirely still and sleeping, you didn't really feel him. Now you could feel him fully; and it was the best feeling in the world. Having him buried inside you was heaven. He began to pick up the pace, thrusting into you faster and harder. The more he moved the more he drew moans from your lips.

Sam's hand moved to rest on your lower belly and groaned. He could feel himself inside you. He had you stuffed so full of his cock that your belly bulged out. He growled possessively and moved his hand to grasp yours. You fell forward and and whined when he stopped moving, resting still inside you.

"You feel that?" He groaned in your ear and used his hand to press yours to your belly. "That's me inside you." You whimpered and gripped the sheets in your free hand. "You're so full that your belly is bulging out." His voice was almost amazed.

"I can feel it. I can feel you." You nodded frantically. He was this long and thick and stretching you open to the point it showed. He was really going to ruin you.

He pressed your hand down with his own and you moaned. "Do you know how fucking hot that is?" He growled. "I'm gonna cum inside you right here. Make you nice and round with my pups." He released your hand and planted his own on your hip. "Everyone's gonna know you're mine." He punctuated each of his words with rough thrusts in and out of you.

"Yes, alpha!" You were a writhing mess beneath him as he resumed his previous pace. Pounding into you, bringing you closer and closer to your release. "I'm gonna cum, S-"

Before you could finish your sentence you fell over the edge. Clenching right around him you cried out. Sam was grunting and gasping in your ear, hunched over you with his heavy chest keeping you down. You could feel his knot starting to form and you wanted nothing more than to feel him cum inside you.

"Give it to me, alpha." You turned your head to the side so you could speak better. You glanced over your shoulder and finally saw his face. His hair was sticking to his forehead from sweat. His eyes were wild and nearly black with lust. "I want you to cum inside me. I want you to claim me."

Sam moves to tangled his hand into your hair. His knot was expanding and starting to catch at your entrance, constricting his thrusts. He was already close, but the second you said claim he snapped.

Pushing your hair off your shoulder he lurched forward, knotting and cumming inside you and teeth sinking into your neck. The overall sensation was enough to send you into another orgasm, clenching tight around him, milking his cock for everything he had. You could feel his release deep inside you, filling you up. There was no way you wouldn't be having his baby.

Blood dripped down your neck and coated Sam's tongue as he lapped at the wound. When the both of you managed to calm down, Sam used the last of his strength to roll you both onto your sides.

"I love you, y/n. I've loved you for so long." Sam's arms tucked snuggly around you and held you in his arms, one of his hands resting on your lower belly. "You….you don't have to say it back, but at least tell me you wanted this."

His whole demeanor had shifted from rough and dominant to being bashful and nervous. You smiled to yourself; he was honestly adorable. You only wished you could look at him.

Instead you opted to rest your hand over where his larger one rested on your bare belly. "Sam, do you really think I'd be here right now if I didn't want you?" He didn't respond verbally, rather shaking him head which you felt from behind you.

"I've just- I've wanted this for so long. It still doesn't seem real." Sam admitted nervously.

"Well believe it. I love you, and now you're stuck with me." You giggled at your own joke and he couldn't help but smile. It finally sank in. You wanted this. And now he had you. You were finally his and he couldn't be happier.

Maybe this change could be good.


	3. The Babysitter (DeanReader)

The babysitter

You stood in the chilly doorway, shivering in your denim jacket and skirt as you waved goodbye to the little blonde toddler sitting on the couch.

"See you next weekend, Emma!"

You watched her chubby little hand wave you goodbye, and then spoke your farewells to Emma's uncle, Sam, as he shut the door behind himself and Emma. You smiled up at Emma's father, Mr. Winchester.

As the both of you walked back towards his car, a beautiful Chevy '67 Impala, he told you, "Emma loves you, y'know. Says you're the best sitter she's had."

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, and as he opened the door for you. "I love Emma! She's a wonderful child, you did a really good job raising her, Mr. Winchester." You climbed into the car, letting out a small Brrr sound as the cold leather chilled the skin not covered by your skirt.

There was a small thump as he got into the driver's side and slammed the door shut, and then he turned to you and gave you a smile. "You can call me Dean, kid."

You tried to ignore how heat crept up your neck and ears at the way he looked at you, and instead nodded.

He looked at you for another moment, just to say, "It isn't just Em that likes you."

You couldn't look at him, not when your face had turned as pink as it had. You kept your gaze locked on your legs, bare and silky from shaving that morning, and hoped that your hair covered his gaze from catching how hard you were blushing. Quietly you murmured, "I like you, too, sir."

It felt like you jumped three feet into the air from your seat when he put one of his large, calloused hands on your thigh to rub soothing circles.

You looked at him with wild eyes, panicked, but his face was painted with a gentle expression. "I told you to call me Dean."

"O-okay, Dean."

You watched as his nostrils flared and his lip twitched in one corner, curving up.

He kept his eyes on the road, but continued talking. "How old are ya again?"

Playing with your fingers, you replied, "I just turned 18."

He hummed. "I notice you got a pretty little ring on your finger. Did your boyfriend give ya that?"

Your face, which had been red for so long, suddenly paled. "No! I'm not allowed to have a boyfriend."

Dean looked at you, stunned. "Not allowed? That mean you've never had one?"

You shook your head, your hair falling atop your shoulders. It felt like you had been paralyzed, you couldn't move; Your entire body electrified, burning up like a furnace, and the source of the heat was the hand wrapped around your thigh. You struggled to regulate your breathing.

"Hey, kid?"

"Yeah?" You cursed yourself at the sound of your breathy, high voice.

"It's nice havin' you around."

You couldn't help the smile that split your cheeks, and before you could second guess it, you laid your small, warm hand atop his, and said, "It's nice having you around, too, Mr. Winchester."

He didn't correct you on the formal name, perhaps he realized he was beating a dead horse, but instead just smiled and rubbed your leg again. You couldn't help the way your breath hitched, and your legs pressed together, catching his fingers between them. You tensed when those very same fingers spidered up your inner thigh just the tiniest bit.

His eyebrows raised. "You okay?"

Coughing, you nodded, spreading your legs back into a comfortable width. He shrugged and looked back at the road. You tried not to notice how his warm hand stayed there, right between your legs, at the top of your inner thigh.

You knew Mr. Winchester's wife, Lydia, had died when Emma was just a baby, and how hard it had been for him. You babysat Emma on the nights he had tried to get back into the dating field, going out with Lisas and Cassies and anybody who complimented his car on Tinder. You pretended not to notice the smell of perfume and the sad look in his eyes he tried to mask- you knew not to ask how the night went when he came home. It wasn't that Mr. Winchester was an ugly guy- with hazelnut hair and sparkling green eyes, and the ability to charm anybody's pants off, he wasn't going home lonely and sad because he was getting rejected by all of his dates, but probably because he was doing all of the rejecting- because no woman would ever be like Lydia. Although he was touching you and smiling so sweetly and making your insides feel like they were replaced with jelly, you knew he wasn't interested in you at all.

You watched as he turned a sharp corner, and couldn't help the butterflies that erupted in your stomach when he gripped your thigh tighter. Some classic rock song played quietly, and you couldn't help but just... stare at the man before you.

His nose was long and straight, and you couldn't help but notice the curve of his plump lips, and the length of his lashes. Suddenly, it felt so hot in the car. Your hand reached down to turn the heater off, only to see it wasn't on.

"Too warm?"

You chuckled uncomfortably. "Yeah, just a little."

Mr. Winchester said nothing and you watched him crank the manual window down, allowing cool air to rush in and lick soothingly at your burning skin.

It was silent for moments after that, and you noticed how your gaze kept drifting from Mr. Winchester's face-the sharp curve of his jawline and the horrifying realization you would kill to know what his stubble would feel like grazing your smooth cheeks as he kissed you softly- and his huge hand, still perched upon your naked thigh like it was just second nature to touch you- you blushed as you thought about how his hands would feel touching you everywhere. You wondered if you being all-too-obvious that you were gawking at him like a creep, when he laughed.

"I can feel you starin', sweetheart."

You felt like all the blood had been drained from your body. "Staring? Oh, I haven't been staring!" You couldn't help but pause. Sweetheart.

Another laugh came out, this time softer, and he gave your thigh a small squeeze.

"How're your folks?"

"Um, they're good. Yeah, they're good. I'll tell them you asked! They always ask about you at dinner, they say you're really nice, sir. You should pay me more, though, they think."

Your jaw dropped as soon as you realized what you had just said.

"Oh my word, Mr. Winchester, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to say that. I don't think you should pay me more, really, I'm happy with the amount you give me already! I'm grateful you even pay! Oh, gosh, please don't fire me, Mr. Winchester."

Dean was unfazed. He gave your thigh another squeeze and just smirked. "Pay ya more, that so?"

You gulped. Yep, you were getting fired.

His hand left your thigh to spin the wheel. You immediately felt the absence, it felt so cold now that his hand was gone. Tears stung your eyes- you were getting fired, and Mr. Winchester hated you. You watched the hand that was on your leg close around the stick shift as he pulled over to the side of the road and parked on the gravel.

You watched in slow motion as his head turned towards you. His eyes, blazing green and so bright, locked on you. You felt minuscule and tiny under his gaze, and you squirmed uncomfortably.

His hand reached out to tuck a curl behind your ear, and his eye caught on your little earring, glimmering in the car's soft lighting.

"You like me, right, Joanna?" he asked. You noted that there was something odd in his voice, a hesitancy, a caution maybe.

You nodded hard. "Yes sir, I like you very much!"

He nodded as well. "Well, I like you, too."

"Thank you, sir."

He leaned in, just a little, just enough to make your heart stop. "I'll tell you one more time, please call me Dean."

You nodded your head. It felt like you couldn't speak, or breathe, or move, not when he was so close you could taste the mint on his breath, or when he smelled like leather and aftershave and the woods.

He kept leaning in, his body twisting so he faced you, and you finally realized what was happening.

"Dean-," you gasped.

"It's okay, kid."

Then he leaned in all the way, tilting his head slightly so that his lips could catch on yours. You knew what to do from movies and friends and teen magazines, so you opened your mouth just slightly to slot it with his, and you swore you died. His lips were unbelievably soft and plump and his teeth were catching on your bottom lip and it felt like you were being electrified or shot by lighting or tased or all of the above all at once. He fumbled with huge hands to unbuckle his seatbelt as he kept your lips pressed to his, swallowing all of your gasps as you did everything for the first time. Every time Dean pressed his mouth deeper into yours, his tongue flicking the corner of your mouth, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip, his fingers digging into your hips, it was the first time for you.

And then, he pulled away.

You tried not to let your face settle in an unhappy frown. You didn't try hard enough. Dean chuckled, and grabbed your chin, giving you a quick, hard kiss on the lips. You heard him mumble my grumpy girl.

"How's that for a pay raise?"

Your face went red again, and Dean rubbed your hot cheek.

Leaning into his touch, you asked, in a voice barely above a whisper, "Was that okay?"

His expression turned confused. "Yeah, of cour-. You've kissed before, right?"

You wished you could sink into the leather seat, and you tried your hardest to- raising your shoulders into your chin and lowering your chin into your chest.

"I'm guessing that's a no. Really? Never?"

"I never wanted to," you mumbled. "Before I met you," you added quickly.

Dean laughed, his eyes and nose crinkling with it. Both hands rubbed your thighs.

"You really are cute."

You gave a pinked shrug and leaned in again for another taste of his lips.

"Woah, slow down, baby."

Dejected, your shoulders slumped and you nodded.

Dean noticed how defeated you looked and gave your thigh a familiar squeeze. "No, c'mon. Don't be sad. I just don't want to take advantage of you. You're just a kid."

Your jaw dropped for the second time that day. "Just a kid? You just kissed me!"

Dean was quiet for a moment, his gaze on your flushed skin. You only just now noticed that your skirt had been pushed up your thighs, and your jean jacket had been rumpled. You couldn't believe him. He had you calling him by his first name like an adult, touching you all over like an adult, kissing you like an adult, and then he had the audacity to call you a kid?

"If at any time you don't want to, you tell me no, okay?"

Unsure, you nodded. "Okay."

"Get in the backseat."

Your heart leapt with joy. More kissing?

Unbuckling your seatbelt you began climbing into the spacious back.

Dean gave a dark chuckle from behind you. "You always babysit my kid wearin' panties like that, sugar?" He asked, a large hand reaching out to grip the exposed globe of your ass.

You were taken so aback by the touch that you fell right onto the long backseat, your skirt flipping up and revealing a pair of lacy white underwear covering smooth, hairless skin awaiting the touch of Dean's fingers.

Pulling your skirt down and blushing, you mumbled, "I'm sorry, sir."

Dean hummed. "Perhaps you're dirtier than I thought. I thought you would wear cotton, baby blue maybe."

You watched excitedly as his long limbs climbed from the drivers seat and into the back with one knee on the seat and a leg outstretched along the floor, settled so he was looming over you.

He pushed your skirt back up, his hands trailing the expense of soft skin. "God, I'm so glad you didn't wear your little Days of the Week panties. Yeah, I know ya got em'" he added when he saw your shocked expression. "Can't wait to rip these off you."

Your cunt clenched painfully at his dirty words, words you were hearing for the first time, and gave a small whine.

"Be patient, princess."

You nodded, wanting to be good for him, so you stilled your bucking hips and silenced the tiny whimpers that poured from your lips.

"Dean?"

Heavy-lidded green eyes peer up into yours, and he gives a, "yeah?"

He's looking at you like you're something to eat, his lips catching on his teeth, and his tongue lolling out to poke at his lips, and his eyes all heavy and trained on you. The fire of it made another wave of heat curl up inside your stomach and lick between your thighs.

"Are we going to kiss some more?" you ask. "I really like kissing you."

You swear you saw his eyes turn darker. "I think," he said slowly, drawn out. "We're gonna try somethin' different."

This piques your curiosity. "Different how?"

You can't help the loud moan that pierces the quiet atmosphere of the car when you watch him spread your long legs and settle between them. His fingers settle at the hem of your panties, and he looks so hungry, like he's just waiting for your permission so he can tear them off you like an animal.

"You like kissin', right, baby?"

"Yeah," you smile. "Your lips are soft."

He chuckles. "Well, hows about I kiss ya again, but... somewhere else."

You hum confusedly. You don't really understand but, you trust Dean. He wouldn't hurt you.

You smiled. "Okay."

"It's gonna feel real good, baby. Am I the only one that's seen ya like this?"

It feels like you can't stop blushing. "Yeah," you whisper.

"Good," his voice comes out like a growl and it almost makes you cry out.

He drags your panties down your legs slowly, and you watch his face the entire time. You spread your legs a little wider and angle your toes downwards so that the garment won't catch on your white Converse. When they're off, Dean throws them down onto the floor, near his foot, and looks at your face for a moment, and you imagine what he's looking at. A small, pinked girl with big, curious brown eyes and matted sooty lashes, her round mouth swollen from an older man's kisses. When he spreads your legs further, the first thing you feel is his probing fingers. He reaches out to touch, his fingers meeting the apex of your thigh and rubbing the dripping slick around there, making you cry out.

"No, baby, shhh. How's it gonna look if a cop drives by, hmm? Sweet little girl spread out in my backseat, a dirty old man between her legs. You gotta be quiet, sweetheart."

You nodded, a little embarrassed. Soothingly, Dean gave a little kiss to your ankle. He spread your legs a little wider and, finally, his gaze dropped between them. He let out a loud groan when he saw how wet and flushed your soaked flesh was, and his fingers, which were still on your inner thigh, moved just a little to rub at the bottom of your slick hole. If he added a little pressure, he was sure his digits would just slip inside you. You had to bite your lip to stay quiet like he asked.

"You smell so good," he whispered, and you giggled shyly, nervously, when you heard him inhale.

You watched his back muscles flex as he maneuvered his body so he was kneeling, with his face just mere inches from you.

Suddenly you were wracked with nervousness. Were your parents wondering where you were? And then that nervousness was washed away; Dean said you would feel good.

"Are you going to kiss me now?"

Dean gave an Mmhm noise and kissed your inner thigh. "If you don't like it, don't be scared to tell me to stop."

You nodded, and waited, watching him, your skirt around your waist and your jean jacket still on. He kept his eyes on your face as his wet, pink tongue poked out and experimentally licked through your folds. You jumped a bit at the contact and winced when you felt your nails bite the pristine car's leather. When you didn't tell him that it was horrible, you hated it, and to stop, Dean tasted you again. He dipped his tongue and licked right up your entrance, where you kept dripping and the taste was most potent. A small whimper bubbled out of you.

"You're not kissing," you whined.

Dean smiled and then ducked his head. You couldn't see what he was doing. You felt his pouty lips seal around your clit and suck, making your body bound up and your hands began their search for anything to grip onto. Dean offered his hand to hold, you readily took it, holding on while he introduced your body to sensations you had never felt before. He began licking again, thick laps up and through your lips, his tongue circling your bud.

His mouth lowered to suck your lips into his mouth and he looked back up at you, trying to gauge your reaction.

"Dean," your voice was so high pitched and shallow you felt Dean smile against you.

"Yes baby?"

His chin was glistening with you.

"I think... I think that I want you to be my first," you whispered.

Dean sat up, wiping his chin with a flannel-clad forearm, and squinted, trying to see if he'd heard you correctly.

"I'm sorry. What?"

"I want to do it... With you."

Dean gave you a sympathetic look, and he leaned down to peck at your lips. "You don't have to," he whispered gently. "Don't feel like you have to."

"I don't! I want to! I've always really liked you," you looked up at him through your lashes. "I tell my friends about you."

Dean smirked, and then he pounced, his big hands tickling your sides. "What'dya tell 'em, kiddo?"

You laughed, out of breath with the way his fingers were shaking at your ribs. "I tell them that I think you are really cute, sir, that I think about maybe being with you when I'm old enough."

He kissed your nose. "Sweet little girl."

You blushed and leaned up into his lips, cupping his bearded cheeks with little hands. "Want you to be my first. You're the only boy who's ever been nice to me."

You heard his belt click and clack. "Oh honey, I'm not a boy. I'm a man."

Your face reddened again and you nodded, slowly taking off your jean jacket. You couldn't believe you were about to lose it to the man you babysat for. Dean peeled your tank top off and pressed your lips together again. His skilled fingers reached behind you to unclip your bra. With the driver's side window still cranked open, the chilly air bit at your exposed skin, causing little goosebumps to erupt and your nipples to pebble. As you began to shiver, Dean soothed your cool flesh with his large, warm hands.

You subconsciously keened into his touch, wanting him to continue the rough drag of his calloused digits.

Dean gave a quiet chuckle, "Such a needy little thing, aren't'cha?"

You only nodded, instead replying, "How come you're fully clothed?"

Dean hummed, and you watched thick fingers begin to work on small brown buttons as Dean slowly revealed his smooth chest and the toned expanse of his stomach. He looked up through thick lashes, and you nearly melted, feeling those pretty green eyes on you as he watched your face to gauge a reaction. He slid the plaid garment off his arms, letting it drape on the leather backseat. As you watched him begin to unbuckle his belt, it suddenly became so hard to swallow, to breathe, with the sudden molten heat between your thighs. You listened and watched intently as his belt clicked open, and you watched the shimmy he gave as he pushed them off his curved legs, revealing a pair of snug boxer-briefs that hugged his thighs and revealed an aroused tent in the crotch. Dean looked at you expectantly, and you gave a quiet little, "please", so quiet Dean wouldn't have caught it if he hadn't been watching your lips so closely.

"You're sure this is what you want?"

You nodded fast. "More than anything."

Dean hovered over top of you and you couldn't help the pathetic buck of your hips as you tried to meet his, tried to feel him. His plush lips met yours, and you savoured the rough drag of the chappedness against your smooth. He began to kiss you a little rougher, his teeth starting to bite down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, making you cry into his mouth. You gasped loudly and furiously tried to rub against Dean's thick thigh when his soft tongue began to lick inside your mouth. It felt foreign, but so, so good. Your leg came up to envelope his waist and your hands found his broad shoulders, your fingernails gripping and digging into the bared skin slightly as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth before letting it pop back into place. He sat up as far as he could, ducking his head so it wouldn't hit the roof of the Impala, and stared down at you as he pulled his briefs slowly down his legs. You couldn't help your eyes from following the movement, or the desperate whine that erupted from your lips as he shucked his boxers to the ground, revealing himself to you. He wasn't insanely long, but it was still bigger than anything that had ever been inside you, with a girthy width and a flushed, pink head that was shining with pre-cum.

He watched your reaction. "You're so fuckin' pretty," Dean breathed. You wanted to reply, wanted to say thank you like the polite girl you were, show him your manners, but you couldn't find your voice. You couldn't look away from the thick dick about to take you.

'Hey, hey. Eyes up here," Dean jokingly chastised, and you laughed, finally looking up,but when you saw Dean's face he was nervous looking. His lower lip was worried between his teeth, and his eyebrows were furrowed. You sat up, gently touching a scar on his arm.

"What's wrong? Did I do something?" You murmured the last part gently, like you were already preparing for him to throw your shed clothes out the window, sending you walking home, while yelling out a snarky comment about a pay raise as he drives away.

Dean's expression instantly softens, and he reaches out to palm your cheek. "You're old enough to be my kid, baby."

"I don't mind! I like that you're older, sir."

The added title at the end makes him groan, and he bites out a, "Yeah?" as he pulls you onto his lap. You feel his cock brush your inner thigh, so deliciously close to your pussy, you can't help but let out a small cry.

Your breathing is labored. You're so close like this. You can feel his everything, but you want more. You rest your head on his shoulder, his skin like a furnace, and slowly you slide the delicate ring off your finger. "I notice you got a pretty little ring on your finger. Did your boyfriend give ya that?" And gently, you pry open his heavy hand, and place the petite ring inside, curling his fingers around it. He gives you a confused look until he realizes. It's a purity ring.

"You're such a sweet little girl," you shiver when his stubbled jaw grazes your neck, his lips right by your ear.

Your head tilts back to allow him more access. "I want it. Please, Dean," you whisper. Quietly he swears and gently rocks you along his length, a firm grip on your hips. You dip in and give him a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips, begging another soft plead.

"I'm gonna fill ya up, sweetheart. Get you nice and full."

Then he reaches behind you, and you can feel him grip his dick. He lets it slap against your ass a couple times before he slowly pumps in and out of his fist. "It might hurt a little, okay?"

You nod.

You squeeze your eyes shut and prepare for pain,but nothing comes but Dean's gentle voice.

"Lay back, honey. It'll be easier on both of us."

You nod and do as you're told. The leather is chilly from the cold air whooshing in from the slightly cracked-open driver's side window and you shiver.

"It's okay. I'll make you feel so good. You trust me, right?"

Of course you nod without hesitation, without apprehension. You'd do anything for Mr. Winchester. He grunts out a good, and then you feel his blunt head dragging across your pussy lips. One of Dean's big hands positioned above your head, his head hanging above you, watching for any discomfort. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, one coming to rest at the nape of his neck where your fingers entertained the short hairs there.

"You feel so good already, baby. So warm."

"Please. I can take it."

Dean said nothing, but smiled and rolled his eyes, guiding himself to your entrance. Finally obliging, he began to thrust his hips forward to sink into you. Barely an inch in, and Dean felt like he was going to die. You were so tight around him already, so warm and wet. For him. It felt like heaven. You stayed quiet, your teeth worrying your bottom lip so hard you thought it would split. Dean held your hand as he continued to bottom out. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you weren't sure from what. Pain? Pleasure? Foreignness?

"Relax for me, dollface. You're squeezin' me so tight."

Taking a deep breath, you open your eyes. He's still watching you, and he gives you a little smile. You return it, and its heartfelt. He's so beautiful like this. Tanned skin glistening with sweat and a heaving, broad chest. Green eyes, even in dim lighting, twinkle and shine like a Christmas ornament. His lips are bitten and swollen with your kiss, and his hair is disheveled and mussed from your hands. You think you could fall in love with Dean, if you haven't already. He plants a heavy hand on your cheek, the hand that was on your hip, and you think you're mush when his thumb brushes your lips. Shyly, you open your mouth to suck gently on the tip of his finger, looking at him. Dean smiles a little, his tongue peaking out through perfect teeth, as he dips his head down to nestle into your neck, breathing hard as he begins to gently pump his hips. The fire in your stomach intensifies, never having felt so stretched out, so full in all your life. Your nails dig into his arms, feeling the toned muscles there flex in your grip. You whined on every push in and out, a mix of feeling uncomfortable, but not wanting to stop.

"Sweetheart, you gotta relax for me," he whispered soothingly, kneading the softness of your hip. When you couldn't open up for him, still tightening on his thick cock and whimpering, he pulled his hand off your hip and moved to rub softly at your clit. You gasped immediately and Dean quickly took this as an invitation to buck into you. Biting down on his shoulder you tried to stifle all of your moans and screams. Dean sat up a bit so he could grip your hips with both hands and bring you down on his dick.

Noticing your whine at the loss, Dean murmured, "Rub your clit, baby," with a nod directed between your legs.

Your eyes rolled back and your body began to shake as you reached down to circle the sensitive little bud. Your noises were wanton and needy, high pitched and loud. You couldn't bring yourself to be embarrassed.

"I want you to cum while I'm inside you. Want your first one to be with me."

You couldn't do anything but nod as he fucked you breathless, the stimulation so much you couldn't even touch yourself anymore. Suddenly, Dean's greedy mouth was on your neck, gently nipping and sucking on the thin skin, breaking blood vessels beneath. Delicately he sank his teeth in, making you scream out, but he only soothed the mark with his warm tongue.

"Please no marks," you breathed. "Not ones people can see- my parents will see."

Dean growled. "Don't care. Parents think I'm cheap anyway. I want them to know you belong to me," he nosed at your jawline, his mouth right next to your ear. "I want you to go home, covered in my mark, and I want your father to know I'm your daddy, too."

You did nothing but whine, letting him continue his assault, your hands in his hair as he ravages you.

"Gonna go a little faster, yeah?"

You made an Mmhm noise, closing your eyes and breathing in his aftershave. Dean suddenly slipped out of you, and you keened at the sudden loss, to bunch his discarded flannel up underneath your hips, elevating them for him. He slid back into you and resumed a much faster, deeper pace, the sound of skin against skin resonating throughout Baby.

"F-fuck, Dean!"

He breathed heavily into your neck, nipping your earlobe while grunting out,

"You like this?"

Your eyes clenched shut, rabidly scratching at his back as you let out dry sobs.

"I like it, Dean. S-shit. I love you. I love you so much."

Dean had no idea if you genuinely meant it, or if he was just dicking you that good. Dean nodded, and kept the quick pistoning of his hips. "It's okay, baby."

You kiss him again, not moving your lips, just pressing them together as Dean pulls out and thrusts back inside.

"Mmph-" he moans into your mouth, you held him tightly against you, pressing up into him as your body continually works to accommodate him inside you. You make sure to keep your bodies pressed tightly together, wanting to feel the beat of his heart against yours as you burrow your face in the pulsing heat of his throat.

You can imagine how tight you are on him, and you try to envision what it must feel like for him. Hot, velvet walls surrounding his dick as he thrusts deep inside, about to cum.

"Need you to cum for me, honey,"he encourages. His hand slides down again between the junction of your thighs, his thumb rubbing quick, precise circles into your clit. It felt like being electrocuted, your body full of jolts and shocks and shakes connecting your body to his. You struggle to keep your eyes open for any longer, screwing them shut and searching for something, anything, to grip onto, to anchor yourself. Dean offers his free hand, lacing your fingers together while you squeezed tightly for purchase.

"Ple-please. It feels so funny- I've never felt anything like this before."

Dean gives a dry chuckle, his voice gruff. "I know, kid. It's okay, just let it happen, I got you."

You kept babbling, gripping his hand as tight as you could, a coil in your lower abdomen tightening and this blinding white heat burning until finally-

"Oh my God! Dean!"

Your hips bucked up and with every intense wave of pleasure, you felt yourself clench down on his dick, your body racking up into his solid chest. Desperate pleas of fuck and please left your mouth in an endless stream that Dean shushed with sweet kisses to your dry lips and wet cheeks. Through the haze you could feel his hips stutter, and his dick twitch in you. He kept rubbing you, pumping deep, until you finally came down, your body struggling for a breath, your hair a mess, a content sigh leaving your lips.

"You did so good, sweetheart. You were such a good girl," he whispered, kissing your sweaty hairline and nose.

You gave a lazy smile, leaning up into the touch. "I want to make you do that, too."

Dean shushed you, petting your hair and smoothing it down. "It's okay, baby. I'm okay, you don't have to."

"Please? I want to try tasting you, like how you did to me."

Dean's eyes narrowed, and he swallowed back a groan. "Lean your head down."

You sat up up on your knees, craning your neck so that it was almost laying on Dean's lap, your face right by his dick. It looked so pretty up close, a red tip, and a vein on the underside that you wanted to lick. There were faint freckles littered all over his stomach, and you gently ran your finger over them. "You're so pretty, sir," you mumbled softly.

"You're pretty too, baby. Just stick your tongue out."

So you did, opening your mouth wide and poking your tongue out of your mouth, trying to look up at him for approval. From your peripheral, you could see a heavy fist grip the base of his cock and pump fast. He warned you he wouldn't last long.

The head was dripping small white beads, and so you leaned in, licking one off.

"Mm god, do that again."

So you did. You'd do anything he asked. You flattened your tongue and pressed kitten licks and small kisses to the tip of his dick until he gave a low growl that he was going to cum. He watched his freckled face turn pinker and his fist speed up before he was painting your tongue with heavy ropes of thick white. He didn't tell you to swallow it but you did anyway, and he held you close for a long time after that.

You laid together in the backseat of his car until the fog melted off the windows, until you were reminded you had a home and parents to go back to, until Dean told you he had a baby to put to bed and a brother to thank for watching his kid while he fucked the babysitter. Then, he dressed you, slipping you back into your rumpled skirt and jean jacket, and tucking your panties into his pocket as he got redressed too.

He held your hand as he drove, kissing you gently at stop signs and red lights, and when he dropped you off at home, you stood outside the car, your head poking in as you leaned into the rolled-down passenger window, mumbling, "Goodnight, Mr. Winchester. Thanks for driving me home."

And he smiled. "No problem, kiddo. Tell your folks I say hi."

"I will, sir."

And you turned around to walk to your doorstep, and Dean called out, "I need a babysitter this Friday night!"


	4. The Angle and the Demon

The Angle and The Demon

**Chapter 1**

Lilah sat alone at the tiny desk in her small, sparsely decorated room and chewed her full bottom lip. She wasn't so much sleepy as she was tired of studying for her college biology exam. She had read the same passage six times now and had failed to retain any of it.

She took a deep breath, sat up straight, and tried again, this time slowly, purposefully reading out loud, "In a typical neuron, membrane potential is about minus seventy millivolts. The minus sign indicates..."

The soft sound of a tongue clicking made her snap her mouth shut and yank her head up.

A gravely, slightly accented voice teased her- "How dreadfully dull, Love. It's a wonder all that studying hasn't sucked the fun right out of you."

She gasped and her eyes brightened as she turned. She beamed at the man lounging on her tiny bed; black suit, shiny black shoes, shoulders leaning against the headboard, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, one hand resting on his stomach, lovingly cupping a glass of scotch, the other arm flung casually behind his head. His mouth was turned up just a bit at the corners, and his eyes... His dark hazel eyes flashed with desire and danger and caused her to briefly capture her bottom lip between her teeth again.

She let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding and he quirked one eyebrow at her. "Crowley..." She said his name with a sigh, before jumping up from her chair and launching herself onto him.

He had just enough time to vanish his drink before deftly catching her, settling her on his hips, delighted surprise transforming his features for only an instant before he stubbornly schooled his face into a mask of disapproval.

"You nearly spilled my drink, Love."

She grinned at him, not fooled for an instant by the stern look he gave her. "How did you know I needed rescuing from my homework?"

He let a gentle smile play on his lips as his hands drifted, barely touching, up the back of her her pajama clad thighs, over the curve of her ass, and under the hem of her tank top, coming to rest lightly on the bare skin of her lower back. "Didn't you know? I'm a knight in tailored wool armor. Here to rescue my damsel in distress."

Her smile widened and she bent to drop a quick kiss on his lips. She moved her head away a fraction and whispered against his mouth- "...Can we go play?..." before rocking herself almost imperceptibly against his lap. His hands sunk to her hips and tightened, causing her to still.

His voice had lowered in pitch and had taken on slightly more gravel than usual. "How adventurous are you feeling, darling? I have something special planned for the evening."

She locked her melted-chocolate brown eyes with his deep hazel ones, just letting herself drown in his gaze for a moment, before quirking a brow of her own, and whispering- "Bring it on..."

The angel and the demon both enjoyed having her to themselves, but whenever the three were together Lilah usually took them both at once. They had worked out some intricate choreography during their trysts that never failed to leave all three of them satisfied and her exhausted. Often she would fall asleep between them and they, neither of whom required sleep, had cultivated an unlikely silent amiability.

Castiel was the one who initiated their first conversation. After months of laying silently and wide awake in bed with his lover and her demon he had decided enough was enough and had made it a point to visit the theater to watch the latest trending movie, just so he could casually ask Crowley if he had seen it and his opinions on it. That was it. Ever since it had been a bit like the universe's strangest book club. Castiel would recommend a book, movie or TV show to discuss after their next liaison, and Crowley would recommend one the next time.

Castiel's recommendations tended toward classic literature and sappy TV movies while Crowley delighted in recommending light erotica and, strangely enough, soap operas. The two occasionally had intense (quietly so as not to wake Lilah) discussions for hours revolving around the plot and characters from Crowley's soaps.

The beauty of this arrangement was twofold- neither one of them ever felt the need to be on guard with the secrets of heaven and hell in the balance, and they both got the chance to have a buddy for a few hours on the nights they were together. The entire thing was a strange arrangement, to be sure. But it worked for all of them.

The sheets beneath her knees blinked from jersey knit to pure silk and the ambient temperature in the room cooled slightly. Lilah knew instantly where he had taken her, and she couldn't stop an excited smile from taking over her face.

She shivered a bit and her nipples pebbled beneath her tank top, capturing Crowley's complete attention. He wet his lips with his tongue and began to move his hands slowly underneath the soft cotton of her shirt, up her bare stomach, toward the swell of her breasts.

The sharp, loud sound of a throat nervously being cleared made Crowley's hands freeze and his eyes flick over to his right. "I nearly forgot," he said with a sigh, "we have company tonight."

She looked to her left, and smiled in surprise. Slipping off of Crowley's lap, she made her way over to her other lover, who was sitting awkwardly in a straight-backed chair beside an old-fashioned vanity. She stood before him, gazing into his startlingly blue eyes, her hands sifting through his perpetually messy hair. "Hi, Cas..." She breathed before capturing his lips with her own, kissing him gently but thoroughly. His large, warm hands found her waist and he kissed her back fervently.

They explored one another's mouths like this for several moments until Crowley's even sharper, louder throat-clearing snapped them out of it. Lilah stood, sharing a playful, slightly shy grin with Castiel.

"Hello, Lilah." His deep, rugged voice made her shiver a bit. She smiled at him affectionately before letting her gaze drift around her beloved play room.

With her momentarily distracted, Castiel glanced uncertainly around the room too, only half of which was familiar to him from their nights as a threesome. There was the massive bed with black silk sheets, of course. A vanity table with a large mirror, a door to the adjoining bathroom which he knew contained a tub nearly big enough to swim in (he had just availed himself of the facilities earlier tonight, if only to give himself a serious pep talk in the bathroom mirror, trying to conquer his jittery nerves), and a fireplace fronted with a luxuriously thick piled Persian rug, bracketed by two high-backed leather armchairs.

A wall had been vanished to reveal the other half of the room, filled almost to bursting with strange tools, furniture and contraptions, a small portion of which he had briefly been tutored on by Crowley earlier in the day.

"Start here. These are her favorite." Crowley had said, patiently, holding a pair of wide, faux-fur-lined leather cuffs. They were black, but the fur inside was an almost neon shade of purple. They had silver buckles on one side, metal rings on the other. Castiel could barely bring himself to look at them at first, completely baffled as to their purpose.

Crowley took pity on him. Sort of. The demon set down the cuffs and guided Castiel over to a flatscreen television, sitting beside him on a soft leather couch, and proceeded to "treat" Cas to a good two hours of hardcore bondage porn. At first Castiel was horrified, and Crowley had to pause the video and explain in great detail about the psychology of the power exchange relationship and the beauty of a safe word. Cas was still skeptical, but continued to watch... Less mortified now and more studious. Like he were watching a wildlife documentary.

Multiple times he found himself asking Crowley, incredulous but unable to look away from the screen- "You are sure that woman is receiving pleasure?"

Crowley would just smirk at him. "Oh, yeah." He would say.

The last video faded to black and Cas looked questioningly at Crowley. "Lilah enjoys these types of things? They... Bring her pleasure?"

In place of an answer Crowley took a slow sip of his ever-present Craig scotch, heavily considering Castiel the entire time. Finally lowering his glass, he released a short breath. "You don't need to do this."

"What?" Cas replied, slightly confused.

"I've seen you with her. You 'bring her pleasure' just fine, believe me."

Cas thought deeply for a moment, before replying in his rough voice, "And I have seen her with you. The way she looks at you when you're with her... She has never looked at me that way. She has looked eager, pleased, sated, yes, but never... so entranced... as if she were adrift in a universe of utter and complete bliss. I... deeply desire... even just once... to know what it's like to cause that look in her eyes."

Crowley smirked a bit before conjuring a second glass of Scotch and offering it to Cas, waiting until the angel accepted the drink before tapping their glasses together with a soft "clink". Both the angel and the demon drained their glasses in seconds.

Crowley winked at Cas. "Then let's get back to work." He led Cas back over to the unfamiliar portion of the room and began to walk him through the intricacies of the cuffs again.

Crowley was uncertain about tonight. He had dominated Lilah in front of Cas before, yes, but it was always verbal, a look, the strategic placement of his hand very lightly on her throat or firmly fisted in her hair.

Each time he was immeasurably careful, knowing the angel, made nervous by Crowley's display of dominance, was there- on the other side of her, inches away, and monitoring her every breath, her every sound- fully prepared to fight the demon to the death if he dared harm her.

Over the months Castiel had relaxed a great deal, coming to trust that Crowley would rather light his own bones ablaze than harm Lilah, but his dominance and their lover's submission was still a source of concern for the angel. Crowley had come to realize that Cas was completely bewildered by it.

Castiel had never known the play room half of their suite was even there. He had never seen these types of toys before today. And whenever the angel touched their lover, he was always so careful with her, so gentle, so restrained. So excruciatingly slow and tender. Crowley didn't even know if Cas had a dominant bone in his vessel.

He supposed he would find out tonight.

Lilah tore her eyes away from her favorite toys and pinned Castiel with a questioning gaze. "Uhm... Cas..."

"Yes, Lilah?" He replied with an intense look of his own.

She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, putting her lips against his ear. "Castiel, my darling one... If Crowley has talked you into... I mean... You don't have to..."

"... I can hear you!" Lilah and Castiel's eyes shot to Crowley, who had conjured his scotch again and was still in the same pose as in her tiny room. He rolled his eyes and gestured to himself with his glass, "Demon. Exceptional hearing." He took a slug of his drink and sat up. "Hate to disillusion you, Sweetheart, but this was all your angel's idea. He came to me."

Lilah cast an incredulous look at Castiel, swallowing before finding her voice again. "Really?" She brushed her fingers lovingly through his hair "Are you absolutely sure?"

Cas nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Yes." He said, as Crowley stood and exclaimed, "He bloody well be sure! We spent several hours preparing for the evening."

She treated Cas with a blush and a shy, sexy little grin that made his stomach flip, and it was that moment that truly decided things for him. Whereas an instant ago he was willing to brave through tonight for this woman he adored, that smile of hers made him positively eager.

He rose to his full height, towering over Lilah. He removed his tan trench coat and his dark suit jacket, hanging them one at a time on the back of the vanity chair. She watched him closely as he unfastened the cuffs of his white button-up shirt and began rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. He efficiently tugged off his tie, keeping it gripped in one hand before grabbing her upper arm with the other and marching her over to an open space in the middle of the room. She noticed that although he was brusque with her, he was still extremely gentle with his grip.

Crowley smirked at Castiel's sudden and complete commitment to his newfound dominant role. He quietly slipped into the chair Cas had just vacated, sipping his scotch and settling in to watch events unfold.

"Stand here." Cas ordered her once he had her where he wanted her, his voice like she had never heard it before. It was demanding, abrupt. It left no room for disobedience. She liked it immensely. He walked a few steps away and leaned against a thick wooden post, crossing his arms and letting his eyes devour her for several moments.

Just as she began to fidget and squirm under the weight of his intense gaze, he growled out another order- "Undress. Slowly." Lilah shivered. Crowley grinned.

She very slowly reached down and gripped the bottom hem of her tank top, inching it up her torso at a creeping pace. Cas watched as she revealed her soft stomach, the little indentation that was her belly button, her tapering waist, the bottom swell of her breasts. She paused here and spared him a nervous glance. He arched a brow at her as if to say "go on". Both the angel and the demon had seen every inch of her. More than seen, they had explored her in every way imaginable. But this seemed different. This Cas was different. He was dominant and demanding and he excited her beyond coherent thought. She finally tugged her shirt the rest of the way over her head and tossed it to the ground, leaving herself bare from the hips up. Cas didn't bother to hide his nearly predatory gaze from roaming wherever it damn well pleased.

His gaze darkened a bit as Lilah took her time working up the courage to undress completely. "Continue." He nearly barked at her. She jumped slightly and hooked her thumbs in her waistband, peeling her pajama pants down her hips, over her ass, and down her thighs. She stepped out of them, used one bare foot to kick them aside to join her shirt and began to remove her silky panties in the same manner.

"Stop." Cas ordered, and she obeyed instantly, going completely still under his hungry stare. He prowled over to where she stood and reached out with the hand not still gripping his tie, letting just the tips of his fingers trace a line down her jaw, over her throat. Barely touching as he walked once around her, his fingertips trailing lower with every step. He continued across her chest, carefully avoiding touching her breasts. Across the smooth expanse of her back, over her hip.

She let her eyes drift closed while the sensations he caused washed over her body. He was gentle, like he usually was, but at the same time his touch was bold, daring, possessive. And she felt a flush consume her chest, her throat, her face as he set her nerve endings aflame.

Face to face with her again he stilled his touch and suddenly grabbed her hips strongly with both hands. Her arms instinctively went around his neck and she swallowed a yelp of shock as he lifted her easily, moved her and placed her back down in front of the post he had just been leaning on. He reached behind the post and plucked her cuffs off of the little shelf where they were kept. He pressed his body close to hers, dominating her with his very presence.

Crowley, watching every second with rapt fascination, smirked appreciatively and had to stifle the urge to applaud. Mostly because he didn't want to spill his scotch.

Lilah's heart was beating so hard she was sure it must be deafening to Castiel's sensitive angel ears. He slipped his tie between his teeth so he had both hands free to fasten the cuffs securely to her wrists. He stretched her arms up above her head, one at a time, and clipped the loops on the back of the cuffs to the carabiner hooks that were attached by a short length of chain to the wooden post. He checked her hands as Crowley had taught him to ensure the cuffs weren't too tight. He plucked his tie from between his teeth and then stilled as he caught her gaze. His breath caught as he let himself get lost for a moment in her eyes- wide, pupils dilated so much he could barely see the chocolate brown, just slightly glazed over. She was looking at him as if he were a god...

His eyes dropped to her lips, slightly parted, impossibly red with the flush of her arousal. He cupped her jaw and drew his thumb very gently across her plump bottom lip before bending down and dominating her mouth with his own. He kissed her passionately, relentlessly until she was gasping and making tiny whimpering sounds deep in her throat. He gave one last kiss, very slowly, before drawing back enough to suddenly press his tie between her teeth and cinch it tightly behind her head.

She groaned and tugged a bit, testing her cuffs, her hips beginning to rock back and forth on their own, almost pleadingly. Castiel bent his forehead to hers. "Look at me." She obeyed him instantly, completely in his thrall. He had to take a breath, her ready submission to him sending a heady rush through his very core. He lowered his voice to just above a whisper- "I was informed of your signal. If at any time you wish to stop..." She nodded at him, momentarily lucid enough to understand what he was telling her. He was her dominant, but he was also her gentle angel. Her protector. Always.

Cas took a step back and admired his work. His beautiful companion, arms stretched above her head, mouth gagged. Exposed, helpless and loving every second of it. He groaned quietly as it dawned on him that she was currently more aroused than he had ever seen her before and it was entirely his doing.

A panicked thought suddenly occurred to him, and he turned desperately to Crowley with a "what now?" expression on his face.

Crowley smirked sardonically, vanished his drink and got to his feet. "Honestly, Angel Boy, I didn't really think you'd get this far." He took in Lilah's appearance, eyes slowly traveling from head to toe and back. She was still gazing adoringly at Cas, her hips still rocking slightly, firmly entrenched in the beginnings of sub space. "I have to say, I'm impressed."

Cas smiled briefly, happy he had done his job well thus far, but his face soon fell again and he lowered his voice enough so that Lilah wouldn't be able to hear him, but the demon would. "What should I do next?"

Crowley took a moment to consider the situation, letting his eyes wander lazily over the array of toys displayed throughout the room. He needed to choose something that would bring his lover deeper into her trance-like state, and at the same time something that wouldn't make the bloody angel cut and run.

His trademark smirk took over his features as his gaze landed on the perfect toy. It had a short, stiff wooden handle wrapped in leather, and heart-shaped leather flaps on one end. The entire thing was coated in deep purple velvet. He plucked it from its shelf and handed it to Cas, who took it gingerly, but eyed the toy like it might explode.

Crowley saw his discomfort and sighed. He made a motion with his hand and Cas handed the slapper back to him. Lilah was beginning to come out of her thrall, and when she saw her two lovers passing around one of her favorite toys she couldn't help but smile around her gag.

Crowley grinned at her dangerously. "You know what's coming, Sweetheart. But I'm just the instructor tonight. Angel Boy is in charge." He ran the slapper over her belly and along her ribs, right where he knew it would make her squirm. She squeaked and struggled halfheartedly to avoid the tickling sensation. "So, love... shall we treat him to a demonstration?"

Lilah winked at Castiel, her brown eyes dancing with delight. Crowley reached for her, intending to spin her around and shove her front against the post- she usually enjoyed it when he played a bit rough- but he stopped himself when he noticed how tense Castiel's jaw was. He put his arm down and instead used his most threatening "King Crowley" tone to growl a command, "Turn around."

She turned on the spot, the short length of chain at her wrists granting her just enough slack so that they weren't uncomfortably pinched in her cuffs. She stopped when she was facing the post, resting a little weight on her elbows against the rough wood, mentally preparing herself for the intense sensations she was so eagerly anticipating.

Crowley began by barely tapping her left thigh, a whisper of sensation, just below the hem of her panties. His touch was so light it didn't even make a sound. He looked to Castiel for his reaction, having no desire to find his arm ripped from his torso if he happened to trigger the angel's protective instincts. Cas stood perfectly still, bare forearms crossed, jaw clenched tight, eyes squinting a bit, studying the scene before him intensely. Crowley gave him a questioning look that Cas returned with a short nod.

Lilah was starting to fidget a bit, growing restless waiting for blows that seemed like they would never come. Without warning, her right thigh exploded in an intense stinging/burning sensation, just below her ass. She jumped six inches and squealed, more in surprise than in pain.

Crowley's eyes quickly scanned Castiel's features, half expecting to see his own demise in the angel's gaze. To his surprise, Cas was stone-faced, rigid, tense... and reaching for the slapper. Crowley arched a brow and handed over the fuzzy purple toy without hesitation, stepping back with a sweep of his arm and a tiny bow of his head.

Cas stepped into position behind Lilah and contemplated the tool for a moment, testing its weight and balance in his hand. His eyes flicked a few times between Lilah's thighs and the slapper. He swallowed thickly, took a breath, and mimicked Crowley's motions, striking her three times in quick succession, twice on her left thigh and once on her right. He was careful to keep the strength of each slap moderate, somewhere between the intensity of Crowley's two blows.

Even though her face was buried between her arms and she was facing the post, Lilah seemed to be able to tell the difference in the strikes. Whereas Crowley's hits were direct, blunt, and almost brutal Castiel's blows were a bit more glancing, with a little flick of his wrist at the very end that tickled her stinging flesh. Knowing it was her angel gifting her with this sweet suffering made her head swim and her knees nearly buckle with pleasure. She sagged slightly and let her wrists take a little of her weight. She heard someone breathlessly whimpering and it took her several seconds to realize the sounds were reverberating from her own chest.

From Castiel's point of view, he had just beaten his lover with a leather strap and now she was making sounds of agony and she couldn't even stand straight. He would have dropped the leather toy and collapsed to his knees, begging for forgiveness if Crowley had not been studying his every move.

Crowley worked quickly, grabbing the angel's arm and deftly snatching the toy from his fingers before it could hit the floor. The demon supported much of the anguished angel's weight with one hand under his forearm, hanging the slapper on a nearby hook before all but dragging Cas closer to Lilah.

"Let's see if you're... 'bringing her pleasure'... shall we?" Crowley reached out and with one rough jerk he tore the satin panties from Lilah's hips, leaving her suddenly and completely bare. She gasped around her gag and the demon took firm hold of the angel's wrist and thrust his fingers in between her legs from behind, tearing a sound of pure delight from Lilah's throat. Cas's gaze went from being somberly glued to the floor to shock at his now dripping, slick and molten hand still wedged between his lover's thighs and then over to Crowley's smug face.

"If you're still not sure, we could always ask her." Crowley started to reach for Lilah's hair but Castiel beat him to it. Cas abandoned her wet heat, fisted his hand in Lilah's abundant locks and pulled her head backwards with a firm yank, causing a deep moan to catch in her throat.

He put his lips against her ear and rumbled- "Do you wish to stop?" She whimpered a plea through her gag and shook her head as much as Cas' grip would allow. "You wish to continue, then?" She moaned and nodded her head at this, arching her back, grinding her core against the fabric covering his well-muscled thigh.

Cas maintained his grip on her hair, grabbed the slapper off its hook with his free hand and let it land hard on her left ass cheek. He lifted it twice more and watched it land in the exact same spot each time. Her body was so full of endorphins that she felt each pain as a rush of pleasure. She groaned blissfully into his tie even as Cas watched a heart-shaped mark redden her ass. He couldn't say he fully understood why she enjoyed this type of attention, but he was now certain that she did indeed derive exquisite pleasure from his ministrations.

Crowley resumed his seat by the vanity and sipped his scotch, greatly enjoying the show. He had taught the angel well, he thought. And it was a thrill to watch him dominate their lover. Castiel seemed to have fully unleashed his inner dominant. His face was still stern, but with concentration now instead of doubt. Crowley let his lips curl into a smug smile as the angel continued to flog Lilah's ass, landing blow after blow without mercy until it was so red Crowley knew she wouldn't sit comfortably for days. He made a mental note not to let Cas heal it.

By the time Cas hung the purple leather toy back on its hook Lilah was coated in a sheen of sweat, trembling and keening and hanging almost entirely by her wrists. Cas curled a strong arm around her waist and reached his other hand up to the quick release on the carabiners, unlatching them and balancing her weight effortlessly on one arm. He gently untied her gag and tossed it aside, brushing a tender kiss to her mouth. He nuzzled her neck, just below her ear and whispered, with a twinkle in his blue eyes- "We're not done..."

He lifted Lilah's boneless form easily and carried her to the huge bed, settling her gently on the black silk. He noted that she was... less than coherent, writhing erotically, cuffs glinting a bit in the subdued lighting, hands fisting in the sheets near her softly gyrating hips. Her eyes were clouded and if he didn't know better he would almost think she was intoxicated. It pleased him to see her this way. It made him feel powerful, knowing he had the capacity to pleasure her so deeply.

Crowley watched Cas watch Lilah for several minutes before realizing the angel needed some pointers. He stepped up beside him and they both just watched their lover for a moment longer. Her eyes were very gradually clearing as her fevered skin cooled in the slightly chilly room.

"I am... unsure how to proceed" Cas admitted to Crowley in his low whisper.

Crowley answered in the same low voice "She is a submissive. Right now she is your submissive. Her greatest joy is pleasing you."

"I am pleased merely to be in her presence." Cas answered honestly.

Crowley sighed, realizing he would have to be brutally plain-spoken. "She wants you to use her body to make yourself cum." He had growled this only slightly louder than he had meant to, but in her heightened state of awareness Lilah had heard him, and she groaned with excitement and her hips began writhing on the bed again. Otherwise she stayed just where the angel had put her, perfectly still and perfectly eager. Crowley smirked.

Castiel still seemed unsure. The demon carefully studied the vision spread before them on the bed before coming to a decision. "This is your show, mate. If you'd like I will join you... but only as a prop. I'll hold her in whatever position you require."

The angel nodded after only a moment of thought, appearing a bit more decisive. "Above her head. Hold her arms." Crowley grinned broadly at him, positively beaming with pride in his protege.

He got onto the head of the bed, careful not to kneel on Lilah's hair, cognizant that would be the wrong type of pain for coaxing her deeper into her trance. Endorphins were the goal here, not adrenaline. He reached down, pulled her arms up to his chest and grabbed her biceps firmly, pleased when her hands instinctively fisted in his shirt since they could no longer grip the sheet.

Castiel removed his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly to give himself more time to think. He had been with her countless times in a multitude of ways but never like this. His focus had always been ensuring her comfort, giving her pleasure, and bringing her to completion. He had a new appreciation for her submissive side after the events of tonight, but he was still not entirely certain how to give her what she needed from him next.

He recalled the movies Crowley had had him sit through earlier in the day. His focus previously having been the submissives, he considered the dominants for a moment. They had been decisive, unapologetically demanding. They knew what they wanted and expected their sub to provide it without hesitation.

He also recalled that the dominants tended to remain at least partially clothed while their submissives were stripped bare. He realized it now as another mark of the power exchange. He took off his undershirt and his pants, shoes and socks, leaving him in just his boxers. It occurred to him that Crowley was still fully dressed, but then again Crowley was currently a prop. One that Castiel controlled.

Cas climbed onto the bed until he was kneeling between Lilah's thighs. She instantly began arching her body toward his, struggling ineffectually in Crowley's grip, almost desperate to touch her angel. He reached down and grasped her throat, knowing from past encounters that she enjoyed it when the demon did this. Crowley quietly whispered the technique to him "It's the psychology of the position that's the goal here, Mate. Do NOT actually choke her. Just let her feel you." Lilah's eyes had locked onto his the moment she felt his grip on her throat, and he watched them closely as he applied the slightest bit of pressure, barely enough for her to feel it. But she did feel it, and it made her delirious with bliss. She stilled completely beneath his grip, entirely at peace.

He stared into her eyes, her expression more relaxed and content than he had ever seen it before. It floored him that he could cause this reaction in her with just the lightest touch of one hand. He moved his hand from her throat, trailing it down her upper chest, down over her nipple- which caused her eyes to slam shut and her breath to hitch- to finally cup her breast. He brought his other hand up to do the same to the other side, and then stilled briefly to enjoy the vision that lay beneath him.

He brushed both thumbs over her nipples, drawing a helpless sound of pleasure from her lips. Bending down, he dragged his tongue over her left nipple, enjoying her sounds. "Look at me." His voice was deeper than he expected it to be, but it pleased him. Her eyes snapped open and obediently stared into his. He opened his mouth wide and took as much of her soft breast into his mouth as he could, his eyes never leaving hers. She moaned but forced her eyes to remain open as the tip of his tongue swirled around her nipple. He applied firm suction and pulled his mouth away and off of her torturously slowly, finally letting her nipple go with a loud pop. He moved to her other breast and did the same to that one. He continued in this manner, becoming progressively more aggressive, licking, sucking, nipping with his teeth, until her breath was coming in ragged gasps and the tips of her breasts were bright red, wet and swollen.

Crowley watched every second with lascivious delight, soon finding it necessary to shift in his seat. Castiel looked to him again, but instead of trepidation his gaze now held only confidence and desire. "Touch her." The angel ordered him. Crowley paused only a moment, weighing his irritation at being told what to do against his yearning to touch his lover. He shrugged and gave in, letting go of her arms and reaching down with both hands to tease her tormented nipples. She arched her back and groaned, her hands gripping her demon's forearms, feeling his muscles shift beneath her fingers as he continued his attentions.

Castiel trailed hot, wet kisses down Lilah's stomach, over her hip, toward her inner thigh. He glanced up at her eyes, which were clouded with pleasure, before sinking his teeth mercilessly into the tender flesh of her thigh, hard enough to leave his mark. She was still squirming and screeching when his tongue found her center. Her protests quieted instantly and her breathing slowed and became deep. "...Ohh... Cas..." He smiled against her and treated the little bundle of nerves in much the same manner as her nipples. Licking, sucking, biting. Using his strength to grip her hips and hold her still when she began wriggling too much for him to maintain his accuracy. He looked up at her as he swirled his tongue and then gently flicked it in the way that seemed to make her writhe the most. Her eyes were fixed on him, almost ablaze with heat. The sight made him groan against her, which in turn made her moan deeply.

He released one hand from her hip to stroke her hot, slippery folds. He watched her face while he sunk two fingers deep inside her. Her moaning and shifting suddenly took on a desperate edge. He sucked and bit her clit, moved his fingers in and out of her, gently stretching her walls. And when he turned his hand over so his fingers could curl up against her sensitive spongy spot all sense left her. Her inhibitions gone, she wantonly ground herself against her angel and turned her head to clamp her teeth onto the arm of her demon. Crowley hissed in shock, but he couldn't bring himself to let go of her nipples for the instant it would take to pry her off of him. He just gazed, bewitched, down at her face, twisted and flushed, on the precipice of a climax.

Cas increased the speed of his tongue on her clit and the pressure of his fingers inside of her, watching her bite Crowley, watching her flail mindlessly, watching her finally come undone, releasing the demon's arm and screaming the name of her angel toward the heavens. Castiel quickly replaced his fingers with his tongue, letting her release wash over him, again and again, more each time he licked her clean, until she finally quieted, completely still save for intense little aftershocks that made her stomach quiver.

"Turn her over, hold her down." Castiel growled, giving her barely a minute to recover from the heady explosion of her orgasm. Crowley obeyed him almost immediately, curious as to what else the angel had planned. He flipped Lilah onto her stomach and fisted his hand firmly in her hair, giving her no choice but to submit.

Cas grabbed her hips and yanked her ass in the air, situating her so that she was on her knees. She was totally docile, her cheek pressed against the black silk of the sheets, her hands resting idly on either side of her head. Cas leaned down, caressed her face tenderly and rumbled from behind her- "Good girl." Which caused her to moan deeply and triggered another round of aftershocks that made her quiver.

Castiel paused briefly to commit this moment to memory. His lover's demon holding her down, her core exposed and presented to him, her juices already coating the inside of her thighs again, so soon after he had licked her clean. It was undeniably the most erotic experience he'd ever had. Lilah began to rock her hips again, little whimpers escaping her throat. She was beyond ready for him. It was almost as if her body were begging him to take her.

"Beg for me." He impulsively ordered as he released himself from his boxers. His cock was painfully hard, so ready for her it was already weeping. She obeyed instantly. "Cas please... I need you. I'm aching... Please take me, Cas. I can't wait anymore... Fuck, Castiel... I'll do anything, just put your fucking cock in me... Please..."

He slammed into her with such force that Crowley had to brace her shoulders. Cas was so far gone all he could do was take what he wanted. He didn't give a single thought to her pleasure, or if he was being too rough. He claimed her like a male possessed, thrusting again and again like a madman. Rutting her like an animal. It was so unlike anything he had ever known and he was lost to her.

Reaching up, he replaced Crowley's fist in her hair with his own, tugging her roughly against his bare chest, never faltering in his punishing rhythm. She melted against him and he was vaguely aware of the sounds she made- gasps and moans and breathless whimpers and all of them dripping with ecstasy. She closed her eyes tightly, reached back with one hand and grabbed a fistful of his hair, using it to ground her since she felt in danger of flying apart. He proceeded to pound her without mercy, at one point catching Crowley's eyes for an instant, the demon gazing passionately at his lover being properly fucked by the angel.

He came suddenly and with a growl, tilting her head to the side and delivering a savage bite to her shoulder, his groans of release rumbling against her muscle, his jaws not letting go. He had never known such pure, all-encompassing euphoria and he almost thought he was back in heaven, except there he had never felt such elation. Lilah was acutely aware of him brutally marking her shoulder, blatantly asserting his dominance and possession of her, and she came around his jerking cock so hard that for an indiscernible amount of time she existed as pure sensation floating in a sea of stars.

Castiel felt himself return to his vessel with no recollection of ever leaving it. He was sitting on his heels and he was still inside Lilah. His teeth were still clamped on to her shoulder as well. He released his jaws abruptly, but forgot to be concerned about the deep bruise that was forming as he felt her orgasm flutter, clench and finally ebb around him. The angel glanced around for the demon and found him once again lounging on the vanity chair, watching them and drinking his scotch, admiration evident in his expression. "Flip her over, Castiel." Crowley said gently.

Cas carefully pulled himself from her and gently turned her to lay on her back. She blinked up at him, her expression absolutely entranced... as if she were adrift in a universe of utter and complete bliss... her heart and soul in her very eyes. His breath caught in his chest. He was trapped in that gaze, helpless and utterly content. She smiled sleepily at him and touched his face. "I love you." She barely whispered just before turning onto her side and letting her eyes drift closed. He felt sweet tears prick behind his eyes.

After a moment he swallowed and cleared his throat, tenderly covering her with a blanket and holding her close. Crowley gave them a few moments before breaking the silence, his voice low and uncharacteristically gentle. "When she wakes you need to be with her for after care. You both discuss what you liked and not, address any lingering intense emotions. Ensure her wounds are superficial; that's an important one, Mate."

Castiel regarded the demon carefully before responding sincerely. "Thank you, Crowley."

Crowley shrugged "Spreading debauchery, it's my specialty."

Somehow Cas didn't feel that anyone tonight had been in any way debased. He had expected to. He had expected to be riddled with guilt at this point, assumed he would feel as if he had betrayed heaven, himself and Lilah. But he didn't. He felt closer to her. He felt that he knew his own soul better now. He even had more regard for Crowley. He was happy. He was at peace.

He cleared his throat again. "Crowley..."

The demon looked up from his glass and quirked a brow.

"Would you like to join us?" He gestured at the unoccupied third of the bed on the opposite side of the slumbering Lilah. Crowley momentarily vanished his scotch, stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, and climbed into the bed beside his lover. When he conjured the scotch again he had two glasses, one of which he offered to Cas. Castiel accepted the alcohol and clinked their glasses together as Crowley had shown him. "Well done, Mate." Crowley said. They each took a drink and lapsed into a thoughtful silence.

They had finished their drinks and we're halfway through a second glass before either of them spoke again. Crowley stared fixedly at the ceiling and asked, "Had she ever said that to you before?"

Cas instantly knew the demon was referring to Lilah's declaration of love. He took a deep breath before answering. "Never... though I doubt she'll remember in the morning."

Crowley looked at the angel briefly before returning his gaze to the ceiling and continuing to sip his Craig.

They sat in silence for quite some time, sipping scotch, Crowley repeatedly refilling their glasses.

Castiel finally broke the silence, jumping right back into the middle of an earlier conversation, "But how could Miranda mistake Bryce for his twin? Even identical twins by their mid-30s have distinctive scars and marks. Piercings. Tattoos. And as his wife Miranda should have intimate knowledge of these and should have known it wasn't Pierce. Also, even if Pierce isn't the father, Bryce is his identical twin. They have the same DNA. The child would be indistinguishable from his own. Shouldn't that fact somewhat negate his apparent sense of betrayal?"

Crowley just smirked fondly at Castiel and prepared his answers, looking forward to several hours of scotch and banter. Lilah slept between them, never more at peace than when she was with her demon and her angel.

**Chapter 2**

Lilah was having a blast at her friend's birthday celebration. They were a small group of girls, out at a club near her college, drinking girly drinks that random guys were buying for them and dancing with said random guys to slamming music.

She was busily dancing with a couple of her friends when a college guy scooted his way beside her and began grinding against her. She was just tipsy enough to think this was hilarious fun. What she didn't notice was her protective Soldier-of-God angel boyfriend popping out from his place in the shadows to go get her other boyfriend, the demon King of Hell.

Her friends were soon paired off with other college guys and she was left to dance with this young drunk frat guy. He pressed close behind her as she shimmied to the beat. The dancing was fun but whenever his hands would wander to more intimate areas of her body she would slap them away forcefully, causing him to wince and curse softly. But he would soon forget about the pain and his hands would wander again.

She was just about to elbow him in the groin when the warmth at her back was suddenly gone, but only for an instant. And then there was another warmth, the gentle scratch of scruff on her neck, and familiar hands on her hips. She smiled.

"Hey, Love..." She breathed to Crowley. It was loud in the club but she knew he could hear her. She felt a growl against her skin.

Then there was another body pressed against the front of her, large but gentle hands on her waist, just above the pair on her hips. She nuzzled into Cas' shoulder.

"Hey, Baby." She muttered, arms around his shoulders and mouth against his neck. She felt another growl against her lips. Uh-oh... Crowley growling was commonplace, hell, his speaking voice was practically all growl. But a growling Castiel was bad news.

She maneuvered them to a dark corner in the back, aware that if they were this worked up, for whatever reason, it was possible they would disappear while standing in the middle of the crowd, and she didn't want to have to do damage control with her confused friends the next day.

The instant they were hidden in shadows her head spun a bit and the air cooled. They were in Crowley's bedroom. She had told him once when they first started dating that she wouldn't want to visit him in hell because it would be too hot. He adjusted the temperature in his room to be slightly too cool to tease her at first, but he found he thoroughly enjoyed the way her nipples reacted to the chill and how she didn't overheat during particularly passionate interludes like she did in her dorm, so he kept it that way.

She shivered when she felt the change in temperature, but only partly because of the cool air. Mostly because she could tell her boyfriends were PISSED. Crowley's hands went gently but unyieldingly around her wrists, pinning them together at the small of her back. Castiel stepped away from her and ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair before turning back to look at her, baby blues flashing with fury. She wisely kept her mouth shut.

Cas gnashed his teeth for a moment before finally speaking, his voice gritty with rage and a full octave lower than usual. "Why..." He closed his eyes for a moment and collected his thoughts. "Why did you let him touch you?" His gaze pinned her in place more forcefully than Crowley's hands on her wrists and she gulped, finally realizing what their problem was... Her guys were jealous. Beyond jealous. They were possessive and they were absolutely livid.

Her mouth opened and closed a few times before any words came. "I was just dancing..." Her voice came barely louder than a whisper. Crowley's hands on her wrists tightened and he growled directly into her ear, making her shiver.

"That was not dancing, Love. That was foreplay." Cas' hands went to fists and a shadow flickered on the wall behind him, suspiciously gargantuan and wing-shaped. His eyes were especially sharp and squinted. She had never seen him so angry.

Suddenly the entire situation struck her as thoroughly ridiculous. "Guys, I slapped his hands away every time they got frisky. I was about to elbow his groin when you two swept in. I'm not helpless and I'm not unfaithful..."

"That is not what this is about." Castiel grumbled. "You were intoxicated and that male with his hands on you was bigger and stronger than you. You deliberately put yourself in a dangerous situation."

"And you let someone else touch what is ours." Crowley growled against her ear.

Lilah rolled her eyes and began to get angry. "Okay, first of all, I am not weak or stupid. I can protect myself. Secondly, that club was full of bouncers and my friends, if I were to get in trouble I had help. Third of all, I am not your property." She yanked at her arms but Crowley's grip was too tight. "Let me go, asshole."

Crowley nipped her earlobe hard enough to make her stop struggling. "You are not our property, Little One, but it is our job to protect you. You make that difficult when you willingly put yourself into precarious situations! Now, are you going to be a good girl for us or do we need to restrain you?!" His voice was a shout at the end of his scolding.

She frowned, confused, and glanced at Cas. "Be a good girl for what?"

Castiel tipped his chin up a little like he did whenever he was irate. "For your punishment."

Lilah arched a brow. "Seriously?"

"We're going to remind you who you belong to, Darling." Crowley whispered to her before flinging her violently away from him, straight into Castiel's waiting arms. She could hear Crowley getting into their play things, readying her cuffs, no doubt.

"You may speak your safe word at any time and this will stop. Otherwise you are going to be punished." Castiel said to her, firmly but quietly. Her whole body shivered in anticipation.

"Ready." Crowley called from the bed. Cas buried a fist in her hair, dragging her relentlessly over to the demon. He held her still by her hair and her guys took turns stripping the clothing from her body until she was standing bare between them. She stifled her little moans of excitement, knowing this was supposed to be a punishment.

Crowley slipped her cuffs around her wrists and then pulled on a length of chain which was attached to the ceiling, her wrists above her head, Cas helping her onto the bed until she was kneeling on the mattress, facing away from them, arms stretched taut. Crowley fastened the length of chain to a hook on the wall and both men stepped away from her, taking in her helpless appearance for what felt like endless moments.

Lilah squirmed and tested her restraints. Her hips worked against nothing, her arousal potent in the air. She whimpered softly and hoped with all her might this was not her punishment, strung up and turned on and left to wriggle, untouched.

Just in case that was indeed the plan she decided to use her charms to entice her boyfriends. She arched her back, jutting her bare pussy back towards them and into thin air, feeling her slick begin to coat her thighs. She brushed her cheek against her arm, moaning with abandon, letting the lust saturate her voice. She spread her legs slightly...

And that did it. She heard Castiel stifle a groan of need. A fist was back in her hair and the prickle of scruffy kisses began to traverse her spine. She moaned and leaned into the touch, barely registering the sound of fabric hitting the floor behind her.

The hand in her hair yanked her back off the bed and she landed on her feet, mostly because the chain kept her from falling. A very naked, very aroused Castiel laid down on the bed, legs hanging off the edge. Crowley guided her onto him until she was straddling his hips.

"Take him inside you, Pet." Crowley growled at her. She sank eagerly onto Cas' length, sighing with pleasure.

"Mmm... How is this a punishment?" She said with a sigh. Castiel's hands went to her hips and guided her up and down until she was riding him just how he wanted her to.

Her ass lit up with a stinging blow and she knew instantly from the sensation Crowley was wielding the riding crop. She seriously hated that thing. The sting was intense and persistent and unless she was already very very deep in sub space all it did was frikking hurt!

In her shock Lilah stopped riding Cas and Crowley struck her harder, drawing out a shriek and a curse.

His hand was in her hair again, tightly pulling her head back. He spoke, gravel in her ear- "Stop riding him and I strike you harder. Understand, Love?"

A flush of excitement traveled up her chest and neck and face. She bit her lip, whimpered and nodded. "Yes, my King." Crowley chuckled darkly and released her.

She concentrated on riding Cas. He guided her hips with a firm grip and stared at her breasts swaying above him. She tried desperately to focus on the delicious feeling of him inside her as Crowley decorated her ass with painful bruises and welts.

Just as tears began to slip from Lilah's eyes Cas dug his fingers into her hips, pounded up into her rapidly, and spilled inside her. The second the grip of his orgasm released him enough for him to speak he commanded, "Enough!"

The crop didn't kiss her flesh again and the glorious absence of pain was enough to nearly trigger her own release, but she knew, with her guys both in such a dominant mood they would not appreciate her cumming without permission. Crowley flicked the chain off the hook on the wall and Lilah collapsed onto Castiel, whimpering words of thanks to him and kissing his sweat-dampened chest.

He chuckled softly beneath her and she heard Crowley divesting himself of his clothes too. "Oh, Little One... I'm afraid we are far from done with you." Castiel said, the naughty tone in his voice making her ready again. She moaned and nipped his pecs, making him groan.

Crowley hooked the chain to the wood slat under one side of the bed, pulling her arms tight again and causing her to slip off of Cas halfway, he slid out from under her entirely. She felt her demon slap her ass. "On your knees, Pet." He ordered.

"Yes, my King." She said in a whimper, drawing her knees up. He grabbed her thighs and pulled her back so her arms were stretched long on the bed in front of her and her hips were pressed back against his.

She braced herself but instead of him slamming into her she felt a slapping pain on her side. "What the fuck, Cas?" Her angle made it difficult to look up to see him, but she knew the feeling of Castiel striking her with her slapper. He had tried out her other toys during play sessions but this was his favorite. It was the first he had experience with and it was also mild enough to be safely used over the entire body. He could get creative at times.

There was another slap to her shoulder. It didn't really hurt yet, but she knew it could. If he struck her repeatedly in the same spot it could leave a wicked bruise. Or he could tickle her with the leather. Or lightly slap her on her face. All things she hated.

"Beg me, Darling." Crowley purred as Castiel struck her other shoulder blade.

"Um, what?" She replied, her nerves singing and her mind confused.

"Beg me to fuck you. Castiel here won't finish until we do, so unless you'd like to spend eternity in this position being flogged by your angel lover I might do as I say." Cas slapped her on the hip three times.

"Shit!" Lilah pulled against her chains with no effect. "Dammit, Crowley!"

He chuckled darkly, the head of him teasing her sloppy core. "I'm afraid that won't do it, Pet." He mercilessly rubbed his length against her clit and Cas kept slapping that same damned hip.

"Crowley..."

"Ah-ah..." He interrupted her.

She grit her teeth and forced out the words she knew he wanted her to say. "Please, my King, I beg you... Bestow upon me the favor of your massive cock. Impale me, my King, please, and seek your release within my flesh." She knew she was laying it on a little thick and was half expecting him to get pissy with her, but apparently the over-the-top thing did it for him because he sank himself deep inside her core.

He pounded her with gusto as Castiel peppered slapping stings over her back, shoulders and hips. She could tell by Crowley's panting and grunting he was close. Apparently so could Cas, because he landed a few of his relentless blows on the demon's ass, causing Crowley to slam especially deep and triggering his violent release. Crowley roared as he emptied into her, moving one hand around to rub her clit and sending her screaming over the edge. Cas stopped with the slapper, moving to unchain her wrists.

She collapsed on the bed and Cas scooted her into the middle, mindful of the painful marks covering her body. Crowley wiped her down with a cool wet cloth, cleaning between her legs and easing her stinging bruises. They didn't heal her marks and she didn't ask. It had been a punishment, after all and besides, she relished carrying their marks with her. They reminded her she was loved.

As soon as she was clean she snuggled deep under the covers, bracketed by her boyfriends, who were drowsy from exertion. They needed to rest, even though neither of them slept. They cuddled her gently and were startled when she spoke, they had assumed she had passed out, sated and happy.

"So... For future reference... If I'm in the mood for this kind of rough, exciting evening again... I just have to dirty dance with some random frat guy?" She smirked naughtily and was surrounded by deep masculine growls and possessive muscular arms.

She pulled them both closer and drifted off to sleep.

**Chapter 3**

Lilah was digging through endless inventory boxes in the supply closet of the coffee shop she worked at part time, looking for stir sticks. She kept telling her boss he needed to organize this stuff. She even offered to do it for him, but he didn't want to have to pay her for it. So instead he payed her for the hours and hours each week she wasted looking for supplies.

She was getting frustrated and was so close to grabbing some money from petty cash and hopping next door to the grocery store to buy some stir sticks, when a sound like wind through fabric made her jump and spin around.

The supply closet was suddenly half filled with her angel boyfriend, Castiel.

"Cas! You startled me!" She worked on catching her breath.

"I apologize, Lilah. I am in need of your assistance." She looked at him curiously. She vaguely knew he fought crime or something whenever he was away from her, but he had never asked for her help with a case or anything before.

"Sure. Whatever you need."

He nodded. "My vessel is in trouble."

"Well... I can call the hospital."

"Please don't. I need YOUR assistance."

He opened his coat and her mouth dropped open as she realized his pants were sporting a huge tent. Like a ten person deluxe tent. She gasped and looked back at his face. "Oh, Cas... Baby, how long has it been like that?"

"Three hours."

Her hands flew to her mouth. "Three hours! What happened? Did you take some medication or something?"

"It was... laundry." He seemed a little ashamed.

"...Laundry..." She turned that word over and over in her head and for the life of her Lilah could not see the connection between laundry and... and this.

Castiel sighed. "I know you have been under a great deal of stress, with working and preparing for finals. I decided to surprise you by doing some domestic tasks you have previously expressed distaste for. I was gathering your laundry and..." He blushed and groaned in pain at the same time, the thought of whatever happened seeming to make the agony in his pants worse.

Lilah dropped to her knees. "Keep talking." She began to unfasten his pants.

"I picked up a pair of your underwear. For some reason my vessel had an urge and I allowed it... I... inhaled your scent..." He groaned again as her hand wrapped around his swollen, purple cock and withdrew it from his pants.

She started licking the head like a lollipop while stroking the shaft. "Why didn't you take care of it yourself?"

He braced his arms on the wall of the closet and found he had to focus intently on forming coherent sentences. "I considered it, but I was unsure how you felt about that. I do not wish to betray you."

She swallowed his length a few times, licking the underside and swirling her tongue around the tip. "I guess..." She sucked him halfway and let him go with a pop. "I assumed you were doing it all along." Licking the slit and stroking his length with her hand. "Most men do. Heck, most women do too." Sucking him deeply, then pulling out just enough to talk around the tip. "...I do it."

She forgot about their conversation and began going down on him with gusto and renewed concentration. She very gently stroked his sore balls, and took him deep in her throat again and again. He closed his eyes tightly as the pain began to transform into sweet agony. One of his hands left the wall and tightly gripped her pony tail. He moaned and growled his pleasure.

She moaned around him, feeling a heady rush, reducing this powerful creature to whimpers with only her hands and mouth. She swallowed the head once more, tightened her grip on his balls just a little, and swung her chocolate brown eyes up to meet his impossibly blue ones.

The intense sensations plus the look in her eyes while she sucked him were all enough to send him spiraling. He came hard into her throat and she swallowed him again and again, sucking and squeezing very softly until she was sure he was wrung dry.

He released her hair and sighed with relief.

"Thank you, Lilah..." She carefully tucked him in and zipped him up, standing to face him and giving him the sweetest kiss.

"You're very welcome. Don't let it get this far again, please. You could have damaged your vessel. I would have been so sad..." She pouted innocently and cupped him through his pants.

He hissed and bent to nibble her neck, just below her earlobe. He knew this drove her crazy. "Cas!" She stifled a squeal of a giggle and released his groin. He buried his head in her neck. "Thank you for trying to do my laundry, baby."

"Oh, it's all done. Well... Most of it." He gave her a naughty smile and removed the offending pair of panties from his coat pocket. They were still dirty. Before she could react he winked at her, and vanished, leaving her with a faint sound of wind through fabric and his taste still coating her tongue.

**Chapter 4**

Lilah was startled from a dreamless sleep with a large hand covering her mouth. Her eyes popped open to take in the features of her lover. At first she was relieved, realizing she wasn't about to be robbed and murdered. Then she took notice of his expression. He. Was. PISSED.

Being pinned down by an enraged boyfriend is never ideal, but when your boyfriend happened to be the KING of frikking DEMONS you could pretty much consider yourself fucked. And not necessarily in the fun way.

He winked at her and bared his teeth in what some people might have mistaken for a smile, but Lilah knew him well enough to know it was anything but. She knew she was in serious trouble when he spoke.

"Miss me, Love?" He raised his voice often, though rarely at her. He hollered, bellowed, shouted, screamed, raged. She had seen it all before, usually directed at a lower demon who had failed a mission or a poor terrified waiter that had screwed up her dinner order. Now, though, his voice was controlled, even and calm. That settled it. She was definitely fucked.

She held very still beneath him, not yet sure what, exactly, he was so livid about. He reached for her left wrist... Oh... Shit. Instantly she knew. She knew he knew. She whimpered helplessly as his fingers curled brutally around her forearm, yanking it up so that her bruised wrist was between them.

"When..." His voice was impossibly deep, more gravelly than she had ever heard it. He had to clear his throat before trying again. "When. The hell. Were you going to tell me about this?" He removed his hand from her mouth and grabbed a fistful of her hair so tightly she felt several strands separate from her scalp.

"Crowley... Baby..." His grip in her hair tightened and tears came to her eyes. He was obviously not in the mood for any flattery bullshit. She gasped out her words. "It wasn't as bad as it looks... I was out with friends and a drunk guy got aggressive... I handled it..." He yanked her head back and the pain was so acute she fell silent and just focused on her gasping breath.

He put his mouth against her ear and growled. "You. Should. Have. Called. Me." He released her entirely, moving off her bed and taking a step back. "You have been a VERY bad girl, Lilah. VERY bad..." She was reeling, suddenly bereft from the loss of his weighty heat above her. She registered his words and nodded her assent, aware now that she would not be getting any sleep tonight. And, deep down, not entirely that upset about it.

"You will of course be punished. Severely. And..." He pretended to consider it for a moment before coming to a decision, smirking triumphantly. "...And immediately."

He snapped his fingers and suddenly they were somewhere else.

He had taken her to his pub. His mahogany and soft red leather, demons-only, perpetually fully stocked pub. There were a few demons nursing hard liquor but once they spotted their king and his consort they made themselves scarce even before Crowley could gruffly order them out.

Lilah looked at him shyly with her most innocent expression. She knew this look would not garner his sympathy. On the contrary, it would provoke his dominant side and make him go even further with whatever punishment he had planned for her. She really was a naughty minx.

He stepped close, placed his hand on her throat, and without warning he slammed her back against the nearest mahogany table top, applying pressure with his fingers.

Stars swam before her eyes and she realized she could no longer breathe. His eyes caught hers. With every word he squeezed a bit tighter "You... should... have... called... me." Her vision began to flicker and her eyes started to roll back in her head. He released her and she coughed hoarsely, rolling herself off the table and landing on her hands and knees.

He went to the bar and poured himself a glass of scotch. He talked without looking at her, still sputtering on the floor. "I spoke with Castiel." She froze. She was in way deeper shit than she had thought. "Imagine my shock when I discovered... You didn't call him either." Her breath came in a whimper, which caused Crowley to turn toward her and smile dangerously. "What, Love? You didn't think we compared notes?"

He walked over, set his drink on the table she had just fallen off of, grabbed her again by the hair and dragged her over to the bar. He bent her over the bar and smacked her ass. "Don't you dare fucking move." She held perfectly and obediently still.

Crowley stripped her of her pajama pants and undies. He stilled ominously and she knew he had discovered her other bruise. The one on her hip. The one very clearly shaped like fingers. The one that had caused her to knee the drunk bastard in the groin and liberate a couple of his teeth from his head with her elbow. All Crowley saw was the bruise. And that was enough.

"What the BLOODY FUCKING HELL IS THIS?" Ah. There was the yelling. He spanked her ass several times. Hard. She yelped but didn't dare move. He put a hand on her throat from behind, not choking, just dominating, and tugged her fiercely against his chest. His voice regained it dangerous quiet growl and he spoke directly into her ear. "You just earned yourself a treat, Darlin'. We're going to play a new game tonight." He have her a quick, aggressive kiss on the forehead, ripped her tank top off over her head and slammed her torso back onto the bar.

She was bare ass naked. She was bent helplessly over his bar. He was in a blind rage. And she couldn't have been more aroused. She heard him rummaging randomly behind her. He didn't even have to tell her, she knew better than to move.

She felt his grip on her calf followed by the familiar softness of one of her faux-fur-lined leather ankle cuffs. He buckled it efficiently and stretched her leg out far to her side. But instead of fastening it to the carabiners she knew were artfully concealed behind the foot rail of the bar he slipped her foot into an extremely high heeled shoe. That was new. He fastened the shoe to her foot and then connected her ankle to the rail. He did the same with her other leg and then circled the bar entirely until his front brushed the top of her head.

He grabbed her arms and buckled her wrists into a matching pair of cuffs, pausing only once, for a moment, to gently touch the bruise on her left wrist. He harshly pulled her arms down and attached her wrists to the fasteners near the floor.

When he was done she felt unsteady, helpless, exposed. Her ass jutted out as if in offering to him, her legs, back, shoulders and arms stretched to their absolute limits. She found it was most comfortable for her neck if she let her head hang over the back of the bar, her chin nearly tucked between her dangling breasts.

He disappeared for a minute more, then he was before her again, pressing a strip of cloth to her lips. She loved the feeling of being gagged, and she opened her mouth greedily. He slipped the fabric between her teeth for only an instant before yanking it from her and tying it around her eyes instead. She whimpered and felt his body chuckle against her head. "Ohh, no, Love. This is your punishment. I intend to hear you scream."

He reached down and twisted and pinched her nipples brutally, mercilessly, making her squirm in her cuffs, straining against them for several moments. He removed his hands, pleased with the strength of her bonds. He patted her on the head and moved away from her again.

It seemed to her that he was gone for ages, but it probably had a lot to do with the fact that she didn't know what could possibly be coming next. He had promised her something new and, other than the heels, they had at least dabbled in everything he had done to her thus far.

She heard his footsteps and felt his presence behind her. She gasped and went rigid with shock upon feeling a stinging pain trail its way down her spine. Crowley chuckled softly, watching her relax very slowly as she began to realize he was only using an ice cube on her. She wasn't in shock anymore, but the sensation still made her shiver. As the ice traveled over her heated skin it left a trail of frigid moisture that chilled even more as it evaporated. He brought the ice into the dip of her back and over her tailbone, boldly between the cheeks of her ass, through her folds, until finally grinding the remaining sliver hard against her clit.

She was right in the middle of a lustful moan when drops of what had to be acid rained down on the globes of her ass. Her moan turned into a scream, and Crowley laughed. He blew gently on her acid burns and then peeled them away... Candle wax. Once the heated wax was gone the slightly reddened skin became ultra-sensitive to touch, temperature, Crowley's breath as he blew across her ass again...

She was pretty certain she knew his game now. Ice and fire... She had never experienced this before. It was one of the most intense things he had ever done with her, and she guessed it would turn out to be one of her favorite games.

The back of her thighs bloomed in pain as her demon dripped wax along her skin. She wriggled and stifled a groan of pain. Apparently her lack of reaction displeased him. He let the wax cool a second before smacking her thighs, the wax shattering and falling away. The agony making her legs shake and tearing a blood-curdling scream from her lungs.

She came back to her senses and felt him soothing her sensitive flesh with the ice. "That's my girl... Don't hold back." He sat the ice cube in the dip of her back and let it melt there, giving her chills. "Brace yourself, Love" was the only warning she got before the agony of the wax returned. He let it drip down the same path the ice had first taken- down her spine... This is where she began scream again... Hissing violently as it dripped onto the half melted ice cube in the small of her back, trailing over her tailbone... This was where she began to thrash in earnest, her screaming turned to shrieking. Crowley was pleased he had checked her bindings before beginning, despite her wrenching on her cuffs her body barely shifted. He slowed down, letting slightly more wax drip at once... Down the cheeks of her ass... Here she began to sob... Down her outer labia, and he finished by placing a drip very precisely on her clit.

He took a step back and admired how exquisitely beautiful she was, helplessly writhing in torment, lightly sobbing, her pussy shining with her arousal in spite of herself, the red stilettos occasionally threatening to twist her ankles but she was just aware enough to catch her balance each time. The bright, rainbow colors of the wax coating her from the pussy up.

He soothed her again with the ice, careful not to dislodge any of the wax she had worked so hard to earn, but smoothing it on every patch of bare skin he could find on her pussy and her ass. He murmured words of praise to her "That's my good girl. You're being so brave, taking your punishment. Bit more to go, Love."

Her body was his canvas and the wax was his paint. He thought her legs looked conspicuously devoid of color. He chose a variety of colors of candles, lit them, and waited for the wax to pool before running it in little streams down her thighs.

By the time he decided she was sufficiently colorful her shrieking, sobbing voice had gone hoarse, her straining muscles limp, and her hungry pussy was positively gushing with need.

Crowley unfastened his buckle and pulled his impressive cock from its confines, positioning himself behind her. He conjured an icy cold, wet rag and gripped a burning red candle. He thrust into her from behind as he simultaneously dripped some freezing water over her back. Her reaction was intoxicating. She was torn between the blinding pleasure of him wildly fucking her and the jolt of the intense dripping on her skin again. Her senses were totally overwhelmed and she could no longer tell the difference between the wax and the ice, her brain just registered it as a sensation so strong it barred all rational thought.

He pounded her relentlessly, candle in one hand and icy wet cloth in the other, dripping them randomly across her body. Each time he would let a drop land she would squeeze her muscles around him, his cock being the only physical connection she could grab onto.

Being part masochist himself, at one point he braced himself and poured a whole stream of hot wax on the place where their bodies met. He hissed at the feeling and he was pretty sure she briefly passed out.

He felt his climax coming and he dropped the candle and the cloth, bracing himself with his hands on the bar. He thrust so hard and so fast that if she hadn't been strapped down he could have fucked her through a wall. He was blinded by stars and galaxies when he came inside of her body. He roared his release and claimed his female in this most primal way.

He let his weight rest on her back until he could see straight again. Unbuckling her in reverse, he started with her feet, slipping the heels off too, knowing she couldn't possibly be too steady after what she had just endured. He made his way to her head, idly wondering what he would find. Was she conscious? Was she crying? Did she hate him? He released her hands and pulled her into his arms, brushing the hair out of her face and lifting the blindfold.

Her face was streaked with tears, her body coated with sweat and wax. She looked at him, dazed.

He quirked a questioning brow.

She gifted him with a tiny smile.

He buried his face in her hair, finally letting his emotions color his words, whispering. "Don't ever bloody do that again. You call me when..." He swallowed and his voice broke. "...Just call me..."

She looked deeply into his eyes, touched his face and kissed him.


	5. Territoral (DeanReader)

Territorial

Sam was almost bent double with laughter as he reached the bottom of the bunker steps, with you close behind, a bag of groceries in your arms. He wiped at his eyes as he stood straight, shaking his head. "I thought I was gonna pee," he admitted, still laughing through his words.

"It wasn't that funny, Sam," you replied, although the smile on your face was wide. You moved to the library, finding the lights off, and when you switched them on, Dean sat at the other end of the table. The look on his face was almost frightening, and he was sweating profusely, his cheeks sporting twin dark spots. "Dean?"

The scent in the room hit you, and you dropped the bag of groceries onto the table, holding a hand out to stop Sam approaching. "What's wrong?" the younger Winchester asked.

"You two seem happy," Dean growled.

"Sam…" you warned, as the tall man ignored you, moving into the room. It had an almost instantaneous reaction, like a cat puffing up in anger, and Dean suddenly stood, his fists clenched at his side. His clothing was rumpled, and your belly flip flopped nervously. "I think…"

"You think what?" Dean spat, his words almost an indistinguishable growl. "I woke up and you're gone. With my brother. Is there something I should know?"

Sam rolled his eyes, scoffing at the suggestion. "Dean, don't be stupid. We went out for -"

The sound of Dean's fist hitting the table made you jump, and Sam stepped back. "Don't call me stupid!" Dean yelled, his chest heaving as he stood there, seething. "I don't like you being alone with her!"

"Jesus, Dean -"

"Sam!" you snapped, catching his attention. "He's in rut!" Sam stopped dead, frowning, finally seeing the state of his big brother. The room was silent for a moment, save for Dean's heavy breathing. "I think… I think you should go," you whispered, not taking your eyes off of the agitated Alpha.

"Probably a good idea before I break your neck," Dean spat, and Sam blinked, taken aback by the violence in his brother's voice.

Sam shook his head, sighing. "Dean, nothing happened, you know -"

"All I know is that you're always sniffing around my Omega."

"Dean!" you cried, moving around the table. "Sam is leaving okay? I'm here." You lowered your voice as you reached him, so only he could hear you. "And you know I'm only yours." His eyes darted between you and Sam, and you watched a trickle of sweat work its way from his brow down along his cheek, slowing at his jaw before travelling down his neck to disappear behind the line of his shirt. "Sam, go. I'll text you."

"I'm gone," Sam replied instantly, and you listened to his footsteps retreating, keeping your focus on Dean. He stood stock still, waiting until the door leaving the bunker shut, but even then, he didn't relax.

"Dean." The soft call of his name drew his gaze away from the library entrance and onto you, and you shivered at the intense spark in his eyes. "It's just us." He didn't respond, the room filling with silence for long seconds.

Sometimes, you forgot just how quick Dean could be. In this state, his reflexes were sharper, his entire being on edge, and he had you flat on your back across the library table in a flash. You shrieked in surprise, but didn't resist as he tore your jacket down your arms. His mouth seized at the first patch of flesh he found - which happened to be your bare shoulder - and you cried out at the pain of his teeth sinking into your skin. It was a primal act; he needed to claim you all over again.

"Ow!" Your voice was pained, and immediately, Dean pulled back, some of the haze lifting from his eyes. He stood, looking down at you, concern warring with his instincts. Rubbing the sore and slightly bleeding bite mark on your shoulder, you sat up, frowning at him softly. "It's okay. You just… surprised me."

"I hurt you," he replied in an unsteady tone, taking a step back.

"No, no, Dean, don't do that." You reached for him, fisting your hand in his shirt. "You can't help it. Sam's an Alpha," his arm twitched at the mention, "and I'm…"

"Mine," he snarled, pulling you flush against his body, bringing you into a hard and deep kiss. You moaned against him, feeling your body respond to him eagerly. "Gotta knot you, Omega," he grunted, in between kisses. All you could manage was a simple nod, allowing him to practically drag you from the library down to the bedroom.

Shutting the door wasn't his priority as he bundled you inside, and you quickly kicked your shoes off just before he started to pull your clothing away. He was desperate, needy, and unsatisfied with your state of dress. Fabric tore under his strong grip, but you didn't pay it any mind, focusing on getting his single layer off. Dean didn't often wear much when he was in rut - you were the same on your heat. Clothes itched and made you feel hot, like bees all over you.

When you were finally unclothed to him, he pushed you towards the bed, manhandling you onto your belly, and you automatically pushed up onto your knees. Dean grunted, slapping your ass once before you felt hot breath fan across your skin. The first greedy touch of his tongue on your cunt made you mewl loudly, arching your back inwards and baring more of your pussy to him. He was quick and to the point, thrusting his tongue into your already soaked hole, making noises worthy of a Ron Jeremy movie, his fingers grasping at your ass cheeks to hold you open.

His name fell from your lips in a muffled cry as you dropped your head into your folded arms and your walls fluttered around his thrusting tongue. He didn't stop there; his thumb brushed downwards along your folds, seeking out your clit and piling on the stimulation. Your entire body quivered, gasps and pants leaving you as Dean chased your orgasm. Another noise in the room grabbed your attention, and you knew by his jerking movements that he was touching himself, pumping his long cock with those skilled fingers.

"Fuck, Dean, need… need…" You couldn't get the words out, a dragged out wail leaving your throat as he pinched your clit and stroked his ridiculously long tongue in and out of your cunt. Slick was coating his chin, and he pulled back, gasping for breath and replacing his mouth with his fingers, thrusting two thick digits into you. It was enough to send you headlong into your climax, and you screamed.

Before you'd even managed to grab your breath, Dean was pushing you down flat onto your belly, straddling your thighs with his legs to keep them shut. His thumbs spread you open, and you made a guttural noise of bliss as he guided his cock into your tight entrance, not stopping until his balls were flush with the round line of your ass, and you sucked in a lungful of air at the stretch of your pussy to accommodate him. The angle was deep enough for him to be pressed right into you, causing a delicious combination of pain and pleasure.

Dean dropped his weight onto you, careful not to crush you, but enough to make the wind go right out of you. "Want my knot, Omega?" he growled, fisting your hair in one hand, the other grabbing your left wrist to hold it in place. Your right hand clasped the pillow under your head as you nodded as much as you could, his tight hold on your hair making movement little more than a dream.

His hips rolled, and the drag of his cock against your insides was delightful, and you couldn't help the sounds that left you. Dean was snarling, placing little bites and open mouthed kissed across your shoulders, back - wherever he could reach. His pace picked up, little by little, until he was fucking into you so hard, the headboard banged into the wall with every stroke. You were close to tears from the agony of the pleasure he was giving you, so desperate to come but not quite hitting the peak you needed.

"Good girl," Dean growled, biting hard into your shoulder, tugging on your hair, and you cried out, spurring him on. His fingers let go of your wrist to snake up around your throat, closing around it tight enough to make breathing difficult, but not impossible.

"Alpha -" you rasped, trying to move back towards him, but finding yourself utterly under his control.

He didn't stop as he turned your head a little to see your face. "What?"

"Need you… need your knot…" The words were almost drowned out by your gasps, but it was clear enough for Dean to understand, and he increased the power behind his thrusts, forcing himself deeper and deeper until you were screaming in a hoarse voice.

"You want this?" Dean asked, his cock starting to swell at the base. "Want my thick knot filling you up with pups, Y/N?"

Oh god, your mind provided, unable to come up with anything. It wasn't something you'd discussed with him, but in the heat of the moment, you couldn't do anything but beg for it. As your lips parted to answer, he jerked your head back, completely cutting off the reply.

"Doesn't fuckin' matter," he grunted. "You're getting it anyway." His fingers tightened around your throat, and the slight tinge of fear at his touch was swallowed up by the trust and need for your Alpha. He knew what you wanted - he always did - and with one hard stroke, he pushed into you, his knot tying you together as he roared with completion.

The sensation of his climax filling you and the feeling of his knot pulsating was the final push you needed and you bucked, unable to stay still as you came hard, the feeling intensified by Dean's teeth sinking into the exact place he'd bitten you the first time.

His weight shifted as your orgasm ebbed away, leaving you both sweating, panting, a tangle of limbs on the bed. He couldn't move away entirely, but he had enough strength left to roll the both of you onto your sides, holding you close against him as his harsh bites turned into gentle kisses. The feeling of his nose nuzzling into your hair made you smile as you waited for your heart rate to calm down.

"You know," you started, voice a little wheezy. "We never talked about kids. That was… surprising."

Dean chuckled, shrugging a little. "I'm sorry. I guess I got carried away."

"Don't be sorry. I liked it." You wiggled yourself, trying to get closer to him, although it was physically impossible. "You should have told me your rut was due. I wouldn't have gone anywhere with Sam."

"I don't mean to get so… so…"

"Territorial?" you offered, and he laughed.

"Yeah. I just… you're mine. And I'm yours."

"You should know I'd never want anyone but you."

There was a moment of silence before he answered. "I've lost people before."

"You're never losing me, Dean," you reaffirmed, placing your arms over his, as you couldn't turn and hug him. "You should get some sleep. One quick fuck will never satisfy your rut." His breath was against the back of your neck, and for a moment, you thought he was already out cold.

Then he spoke again, his voice a little rumble against your skin.

"I wouldn't mind. If you did get pregnant." Your insides tightened at his words, and Dean felt it, kissing the side of your neck. He didn't say anymore, but you knew, at that moment, the both of you were hoping for the same thing.

"Dean's been off lately," Sam commented, pulling the Impala over to the side of the road, not looking at you as he spoke, and you didn't respond, thinking back to the last rut your Alpha had gone through. He'd been a little more protective ever since, and he wasn't especially happy about you being around Sam at all.

But this hunt required that you go your own way, and Dean was left to do the interviews of witnesses, while you and Sam headed to the morgue to check on the two victims of the monster you had yet to identify.

"Is there anything I should know?" he asked, and you raised your eyes to his, shaking your head. That lead to a huff from the taller Winchester, and he climbed out of the car, straightening his jacket as he eyed up the grey building that housed the morgue.

You followed his lead, leaning against the car. For the last two days, you'd been exhausted, getting tired at the smallest effort. There was a good chance you were coming down with something after getting soaked on the last hunt - being thrown into a river by a pissed off spirit hadn't been high on your list of things to do.

"Hey," Sam called, getting your attention, his concerned frown following your movements as you pushed away from the car and walked towards him. "You're not much better than Dean. Seriously -"

"I'm fine, Sam. Just getting a cold or something." You sniffed lightly, as if that would get him off your back, and he shrugged, keeping close to you as you headed into the building.

The morgue assistant didn't seem to give two shits about his job, and let you through without even asking for identification, and barely acknowledging Sam's FBI spiel. Sam took the lead, like always, locating the paperwork and dragging corpse number one from her frozen bed.

Almost instantly, you turned, gagging heavily, unable to get your hand over your mouth before you were on your knees, churning the contents of your stomach into the nearest thing you could find. The waste paper basket was already half full, and you kept going until you were done, realizing that the nice breakfast you'd gone for this morning was now completely wasted.

Sam blinked at you, bewildered by the reaction, before a frown settled back on his face. "That's new."

"Sorry," you muttered, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. "Guess I am getting sick."

"Was it the dead body?" he asked.

"I don't think so. You okay here?" You felt a little wobbly, and Sam nodded, throwing the keys to the car at you. "I'm gonna go lay down in the car. You… do the thing." It didn't feel like you could string a sentence together, and you left without waiting for a reply. The morgue assistant didn't even bother looking up as you ran past him, feeling like your insides were trying to escape again.

Once back at the Impala, you crawled onto the back seat, the sweat clinging to your skin in an uncomfortable manner that made you stick to the leather upholstery. You tore off your jacket, spreading it over the seat before easing yourself down, not even bothering to shut the door.

You weren't sure when you passed out, but when you felt someone shaking you, using your leg for leverage, you lashed out, panic on your face at the intrusion. Sam was staring at you in concern, and before you could respond, he had you pinned, one hand spreading over your forehead.

"You've got a fever," he muttered, scenting the air. "But you're not in heat."

"I told you," you insisted in a croaky voice, "I'm sick."

"I need to get you back to the motel. Dean will kill me." He didn't even seem to be talking to you as he tucked your legs inside the car, closing the door and walking around to the driver's side. You rolled over, groaning at the way your stomach churned, wrapping your arms around yourself as Sam started the car.

Five minutes later, the rear door next to your head opened, and you looked up weakly, acknowledging Dean for all of a second before you flopped down again. He repeated the actions Sam had taken, his calloused fingers pressing into your overheated skin for a second, before he withdrew. You mewled, desperate for the comfort of your Alpha, but he didn't respond to you.

The car started again, and you let your eyes fall shut, not caring where they were taking you. When they pulled up at their destination, you were drifting, and you didn't put up one ounce of a fight when Dean practically dragged you from the car, hoisting you into his arms.

"It's okay, we're gonna get you seen to," he muttered, and you managed little more than a squeak, curling into his chest and completely losing your grip on reality.

Bright lights assaulted your vision as you opened your eyes again, unaware of how much time had passed. The room around you was decorated in deep blues and greens - relaxing colors, you supposed. You lifted your head slightly, noticing you were on your side, and there was an uncomfortable sensation in your arm.

Groaning, you looked down, seeing an IV tube running into your elbow, bruising evident around the point of entry. That made you panic, and you tried to sit up, only to feel more nausea assaulting you.

"Whoa, whoa, slow down, sweetheart," Dean's voice assured you, and he appeared in your field of vision, smiling gently as he placed his large hands on your shoulders, easing you back down. "You've had a rough couple of days."

"Dean?" God, your throat hurt. The Alpha seemed to pick up on this, and handed you a glass of water from the bedside table that you hadn't spotted before. You sipped at it gratefully, feeling a little more able to speak. "What happened?"

"Well, you were sick," he started. "Came down with it all of a sudden, the doctors think it was probably a virus you picked up from that river. Obviously we told them it was a fishing accident." He smirked, and you nodded, unable to feel the mirth. "You were unconscious for about three days. We were… we were real worried about you." Translate to Dean was worried about you, and probably making the doctor's life hell until he knew what was wrong.

"Three days?" you asked, and he nodded. "I thought I'd just picked up the flu or something…"

Dean shook his head. "It was a pretty nasty virus. They said if we hadn't got you here quick enough… you wouldn't have had long. They pumped you full of antibiotics and did an internal scan…" He paused, giving you a small smile. "It's apparently not all you picked up."

You frowned, pushing yourself up a little, trying to get comfortable. "What do you mean? What's wrong?"

"Y/N… you're pregnant."

It was like you hadn't quite heard him - the word didn't seem real. Dean remained still, letting the news sink in, but you couldn't accept it. Were you dreaming? Was this a joke?

"Not a joke," he whispered, reaching out to take your hand. "When they were scanning for internal injuries, the nurse picked up another heartbeat. They did an ultrasound… but they wouldn't let me see it. Now you're awake…" His eyes went wide. "Shit, I should probably let someone know you're awake."

He tore his hand from yours, getting up and moving to the door. Flinging it open, he disappeared, and you sat there, staring at your hands, unable to figure out what was going on. You'd have known if you were pregnant… you had your heat last month. Didn't you?

At this point, you weren't even sure of the date. It had been hunt after hunt, no down time, and… had you skipped a cycle and not noticed? Come to think of it, you didn't recall having your period last month either.

The doctor entered the room with a smile on his face. He was an older gentleman, with thinning hair and a nose too big for his face, but he seemed friendly enough. "Ah, Mrs Winchester," you couldn't help but blush at the title, "it is very good to see you awake. Now, I'm going to need to run a few checks on you, and then we'll get one of the girls from OBGYN to come down and let you have a look at this new person you're growing."

"And there's your baby," the cheerful obstetrician announced, from her perch slightly above you, her hand controlling the gelled wand that moved over your belly. You felt self-conscious about being half naked, the hideous dotted hospital gown pulled up to underneath your breasts. There were so many scars and stretchmarks on you, and you had a hunter's physique.

Dean picked up on your anxiety as soon as you were on the table, smiling as he took your hand and kissed your knuckles. "You're beautiful, sweetheart," he assured you, rubbing your hand gently.

The anxiety had melted away when you'd looked at the screen, seeing the mass of black and white fuzz, and the small, lighter spot that the woman was pointing out. Your baby. Dean's pup. It took your breath away, and you unconsciously squeezed Dean's hand.

"Looks like you're about… fifteen weeks along. You'll probably start showing properly soon." She pressed a few buttons, moving the wand around a little bit. "I don't see any problems. Heart is strong, development is good. We can arrange a 3D scan if you like? They're a little bit extra but -"

"I think we're okay," you whispered, eyes glued to the screen. "I… I… Dean…" You swallowed, tearing up at the sight of your baby. "That's our pup, Alpha." It was instinct for him to reach for you, and the obstetrician smiled widely, pushing her long black hair out of her face, before standing.

"I'll leave you two alone for a moment while I go print some pictures off for you," she said, gently, before leaving the room, her soft shoes clicking on the linoleum.

Dean's armed encircled you, his forehead pressing against yours. "I love you so much, Y/N," he murmured, and you laughed a sob, covering your mouth with your other hand. It was a rare occasion for Dean to say the actual words - he had other ways of saying he loved you every day, the same way he did with his brother. Dean Winchester could probably count on one hand the amount of times he'd said the "l" word to someone like that, but right now, he was at a loss for clever words and puns.

All he could feel in that moment was complete and utter love. "It's ours," he said, smiling at you, his eyes going up to the screen.

"We did that," you said, mesmerized by the image on the screen. "We made that."

"Yeah, we did," he smirked, returning swiftly to lewd Dean. "Damn, I'd been so worried about you. I thought your scent being off was just where you were ill. I couldn't figure out why I was in such a bad mood but…"

"Sam asked, but I didn't know why," you replied, finally turning to look at him. His green eyes were wet with emotion, and he was smiling like a crazy person. "You could smell it?" He nodded. "Do you think… do you think Sam did?"

Dean shrugged, but there was certain tension to his jaw that gave away his irritation at Sam scenting you. It was natural; he was your Alpha, and Sam was a different Alpha, although he'd never shown any interest in you. "Who knows. He's gonna be excited to be an uncle though."

The obstetrician returned, handing you a few small sheets of paper. You stared down at them, still marvelling at the tangible evidence of the life growing inside you.

"You're free to go," she said. "You're being discharged today, right?" You nodded, still staring at the photos. "Well, you'll need to see someone in a few weeks, just to make sure baby is growing okay, and if you want, find out the sex. Do you have a regular doctor?"

You hesitated, knowing you didn't, that the fake credit cards and other things about your life might suddenly call your parenting ability into question. Doubt assaulted you in that second, and Dean, ever your Alpha, swooped in with his smooth untruths.

"We do. Dr Barbar. He's great, and I'm sure he can refer us to a fantastic OBGYN in Fresno."

She quirked her head. "Fresno, huh? You don't look like Californians."

Dean laughed, rubbing your back. "We get that a lot. I'm originally from Kansas, and Y/N here is from Idaho." The obstetrician smiled, but there was something in her eyes that called him out on his lies. You smiled tightly, nodding at Dean.

"Come on, I wanna go home," was the universal code for "we need to leave before someone starts asking question", and Dean was quick to pick it up.

"Let's get you outta here, sweetheart," he said, assisting you from the bed and out of the door.

Thirty minutes later, you'd committed three felonies by signing the discharge papers, and paying with a fake credit card, and stealing the wallet from a doctor who was shouting in a nurse's face for knocking his coffee over. But you were in the Impala, speeding away from the hospital with the baby photos clutched in your fingers.

"So, we've got some news," Dean said, looking over at you, before smiling at Sam, who'd taken over driving duties, as his brother hadn't slept properly for days on end.

"Yeah?" Sam replied, not taking his eyes off the road.

"You're gonna be an uncle." Dean's smile burst out wider, and Sam's jaw nearly touched the brakes. He blinked a few thousand times, and glanced to the elder Winchester very quickly.

"Seriously?" he asked, and Dean nodded. "My god, you guys, that's fantastic! How far along are you? Is the baby okay after the virus?"

You passed Dean a photo, and he showed it to Sam, distracting him from driving for longer than he probably should have. But the look on his face was ecstatic, and he laughed loudly. "She's strong. I'm about fifteen weeks in, and she's fine from what they can see."

"She?" Sam asked, but Dean scoffed loudly.

"We don't know the sex."

"It's probably a girl," you replied, shrugging. "75% of Omega births are girls."

"Yeah, but it could be a boy. Strong little Alpha like his dad." Dean's eyes lit up, and you groaned.

"I don't think I could cope with three Alpha Winchesters," you muttered, leaning against the window.

Sam laughed loudly, as Dean watched you, open adoration on his face. "Speaking of three Winchesters…" He turned, reaching into his pocket before climbing over the back seat, making Sam scold him. Dean only grinned, sliding onto the seat next to you, holding out a small red box. "Wanna make that fake name official?"


	6. Snowblower (DeanReaderSam)

Snow blower

Summary:

You, Sam, and Dean are in an established relationship, living in the bunker. A big snow storm hits Kansas and you three are working hard to keep from being buried in the bunker in case of emergency, but it's cold outside, and the three of you need some warming up after.

Chapter 1

You and Sam are up early, working on clearing the snow away from the entrance to the bunker and the bunker's garage without letting it look too obvious if someone were to pass by. It's no easy task to start with, to say the least, add 36 inches of snow, and it's a real challenge. You and Sam have a snow blower to help, but in order to use it, Sam has to use a shovel to move the snow down to a level where you can feed it into the snow blower.

After shoveling an area out for you to work with, Sam turns to where you're finishing up another area. "I'm gonna go get Dean."

You lower your scarf enough to let Sam see you scoff. "Yeah, tell him to stop researching whether this storm is supernatural or not and help shovel it."

Sam grins, goading you. "It could be a frost giant."

"It could also be climate change, Odinson. We still can't do a damn thing about it either way if we're snowed in."

"I know. That's why I'm out here." He comes over, giving you a snowy hug.

"Tell that lazy ass that if he doesn't get up here and help us soon, he's sleeping alone tonight too." You often switched off brothers from one night to the next, but when you all felt inclined, especially on cold nights, you all shared a bed together.

Sam smirks at you. "That's not much incentive to give him the message."

You pull him down for a filthy kiss before giving him a light and ineffective shove towards the bunker. "How about you give him the message or youboth sleep alone after watching my see to my own needs?"

Sam tuts at you. "This cold is making you cruel."

"Just go get your brother, and everyone gets what they want." You smirk back. "And refill the gas can, the blower is running out of fuel, and this white stuff is still coming down."

Sam blows you a kiss and heads inside, taking a moment at the door to adjust himself, while you move the blower into position.

Sam finds Dean, drinking a mug of coffee in the library and paging through volumes of lore. He relays your message.

Dean chuckles. "I love it when she gets all bossy. So, how bad is this storm?"

"It's still coming, and we're running out of gas for the blower."

Dean snickers. "Well, we better get some more fuel for our little blower."

Sam rolls his eyes. "She's been talking like that all morning. It's starting to rub off."

Dean snorts into his coffee. "It's rubbing off is it? Maybe you oughta rub one off before you go back out there, little brother."

"Shut up, Jerk."

Dean drains his coffee. "We got more gas here?"

"Yeah, thankfully, because we sure as hell can't go out for it. Even if we could get to a gas station, nothing is open."

"Jeeze. OK I'm coming."

Sam snickers. "It's contagious."

"Shut up, Bitch."

Dean gets up from the table and bundles up while Sam refills the gas can in the garage. Then they both head outside. The wind is gusting strong enough to send them both staggering for a minute before they shut the door and brace themselves. They see you, sheltered a little by a drift of snow that's nearly as tall as you.

Dean waits until you finish the section you are working on to come up behind you and pull you into a hug, heavily padded by layers. "Shit baby, it's like Hoth out here."

You grin back at him, turning to give him a quick kiss. "No shit, Captain Solo. Grab a shovel, so you can push the snow down to a level that the blower can reach it."

Dean shakes his head and looks at Sam while you go back to work. "Does she have any idea that she's doing that?"

"I don't think so."

"Sounds like our other little blower has some unmet needs on the brain whether she knows it or not. I thought you took care of her last night. What's wrong, Sammy? Not feeling up to snuff?"

Sam elbows Dean hard in the ribs. "Hey, I took care of our girl just fine. But you know her . . ." Sam's mouth breaks into a grin. "She's just insatiable."

Dean grins along with him. "Yeah, she really is."

When you stop the blower so Dean can shovel, Sam is near, waiting expectantly. You give him a kiss, and nuzzle under his ear. "Thank you for getting Dean."

"Of course." Sam nuzzles back, and then heads over to help his brother.

You can barely feel the fingers on your right hand anymore after so many hours in the cold. You pull your right glove off and suck your three middle fingers into mouth to warm them up while you watch the snow fall over the valley below.

Sam and Dean turn back to look your way and see what you're doing while they keep shoveling. They can see from the way your cheeks are hollowed out that you are sucking on your fingers and moving your tongue around over them. When you add a fourth finger, Sam lost all focus and dumps an entire shovelful of snow on Dean's head.

Dean doesn't even turn; he just shakes off the snow and tries to go back to shoveling. "Thanks Sam. I needed that."

"We're never gonna finish this if she keeps that up."

"Don't worry, little brother. I got this."

Sam frowns as Dean walks up to you, wondering what his brother is planning.

"Hey Darlin,' why don't you head in and warm up before you lose a finger?" He pulls your right hand from your mouth and sucks your fingers into his, swirling his tongue over the pads, while he watches your eyes, cloud with pleasure.

Sam, catching on quickly, comes up and takes your other glove off, giving your left hand the same treatment. "How about you go get yourself all warmed up for us, and we'll join you after we finish out here.

You're feeling dizzy with pleasure from their lips and tongue warming up your hands, but you try to protest. "But that's not fair to you two . . . especially you, Sam. You've been out as long as I have."

Dean pulls your fingers free, holding them to his cheek while he speaks. "Sam's not the one losing feeling in his fingers."

Sam mirrors Dean's action, letting your fingers trace his lips. "I don't mind. I just want you to be safe and warm." He punctuates his words with kisses to your fingertips. "If it makes you feel better, you can help me **warm up** first when we come in." Sam draws out each word purposefully, winking at you as he finishes.

You grin at them. "All right. You boys finish up out here, and I'll take care of warming you up when you come in."

Dean smirks. "I have no doubt that coming in will warm us right up, Sweetheart."

You smile at both of them, a little dazed, and head inside, looking back over your shoulder at them, while they adjust themselves obscenely, making you lean hard against the door, anticipating.

You head inside and put all your clothes in the drier and then slip on a fuzzy bathrobe and slippers before pulling out the crock-pot and putting chili together as a surprise. You just finish pulling out a muffin pan of cornbread muffins when you hear the boys come through the door, stomping and shivering. The gush of cold air has you pulling the robe tighter around you as you move over to them.

Dean's voice echoed out first, as usual. "Damn! A few more minutes of that and I was gonna need to slice me up a tauntaun."

"I prefer to keep my lightsaber tucked away, so it doesn't freeze."

Dean sees you first, and grins. "Oh I don't know, that little tauntaun over there looks like a nice warm place to crawl inside to warm up." Dean winks at you. "Come over here and warm us up, Darlin'. Sam needs a soft, warm place to put his lightsaber."

You can't help the smile that spreads over your face. "Come on boys, let's get you warmed up. Follow me to the laundry."

Once inside the laundry room, you pull Sam to you first. You take a minute to warm his lips by teasing them with your tongue while Dean watches before you crouch at Sam's feet to help him get his snow-encrusted boots off his feet. Once you have his boots off, you toss them into an old, deep-basin wash sink in the corner and then, tug off his hat, scarf, gloves, and finally unzip his coat. You pull a couple fresh, warm blankets from the drier and wrap one around Sam while he watches you closely. Then you toss his snowy clothes in the now-empty drier. Putting the second blanket on top of the washer with one hand, you place soft, warm kisses over his left fingertips and then, making sure Dean has a good view, suck Sam's middle three fingers into your mouth and start sucking loudly, your tongue poking out in brief tantalizing flashes as you run them over Sam's hand.

Sam falls back against the wall behind him, moaning, while you work, warming one hand thoroughly. Then you give his hand a parting kiss and lower it slowly until it's right over the growing bulge in his jeans, pressing his saliva-slick hand over it until you're both giving his cock a good, firm squeeze through the denim. Dean's moan is only a hair behind yours and Sam's.

Your lips are just barely touching his, when you swallow the sounds he makes. You take your time, enjoying the feel of Sam hard and wanting under your hand. When you pull away, you smile, catlike. "Your brother looks like he needs some warming up too."

Sam weakly protests, "What about my other hand?"

You pause, pretending that you'd forgotten about it until now. "Oh right." With a casualness in utter contrast to your actions a moment ago, you grab his right hand, place it on your thigh and use it to pull your robe back and off your body until you can place it directly between your legs. If Dean couldn't see plainly that you're naked under that robe, he could guess by the way his brother's moan goes harsh and ragged as you plunge his fingers without warning into your slick heat. "Why don't you keep them there until I finish getting your brother out of those snowy clothes?"

Sam nods weakly, shifting his feet just enough to keep his hand where it is while sensation races back through his skin.

Dean's breath is coming almost as fast when you take off his clothes, starting with his hat, scarf, and gloves and then moving to his coat, moving as fast as you can without dislodging Sam's hand, losing patience with your own game.

Dean chuckles at your eagerness. "Need something, Sweetheart?"

"Just want to get the load started."

Dean raises an eyebrow while Sam buries his face into your hair, chuckling.

Your eyes narrow. "The laundry load, so we have warm clothes when we have to go back out there."

Dean winks. "Sure, honey. Hey, my hands are cold too."

You toss Dean's snowy outer clothes into the drier and turn it on, Sam managing to keep his hand in place in spite of your quicker movements. Then you grab Dean's left hand, and locking your eyes on his, suck his three middle fingers into your mouth while Dean groans, pupils going wide at the sight of your lips wrapped around his fingers, your hand pumping them in and out.

"Wha-what about my other hand, Darlin'?" Dean's losing some of his swagger as the blood rushes to his groin.

You smirk around his fingers, take his other hand and pull it to your neckline, enjoying the contrast of his cold fingers against your hot skin, then drag it down the opening of your robe, letting him tug the belt loose and then moving his hand between your legs with his brother's.

Meanwhile, Sam has started warming up and his right hand is starting to move experimentally between your legs, sliding up to swirl around your clit to make room for Dean's to dip inside you where it's warmest. Then Sam's left hand begins to come around your back. He pulls your robe a little further back, revealing more of you to Dean's hungry gaze and begins to massage your breast.

You moan wantonly around Dean's fingers in your mouth, letting yourself enjoy Sam's and Dean's hands a moment. Dean has two fingers in you and Sam's middle finger is right there with them, rubbing around the opening of your hole while you squirm. Sam is still rubbing circles over your clit alternating between soft and firm while his other hand squeezes your breast gently with his palm while his finger tips roll your nipple delicately.

You let them tug you right over the edge. Their strong hands, help you steady yourself while they still each have a hand buried between your shaking legs.

Dean can't help but look smug when you come, still sucking around his fingers. "Good girl; we got you, baby."

Dean and Sam each move one of their hands to rub soothingly at the inside of your thighs, each brother holding onto a leg while you come down. Sam keeps on hand over your breast, but now more to keep it warm and you pull off Dean's fingers with a filthy pop.

"Feeling warmer?"

Sam's voice is little more than a warm growl at your ear. "Getting there. Come on, our little hand warmer. You still have some work to do."

"How about our little snow blower?" Dean chuckles. "We wear you out already? I thought you were going to warm all of us up when we came in."

You manage a wry glare. "You haven't come inside me yet. When you do, you'll be plenty warm, I assure you."

Dean suddenly ducks down to put you over his shoulder and hauls you out of the laundry room, Sam on his heels. "No time like the present."

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Sam grabs the second blanket before shutting off the lights in the laundry room and hands it to you along with his own, so his hands are free while Dean continues to wend his way through the bunker.

Bouncing over Dean's shoulder, you watch Sam start pulling off his clothes, leaving a trail of shirts and then his pants and finally underwear through the bunker. You make sure Sam sees you lick your lips when he's naked at last. He takes his blanket back from your hand and wraps it over himself to ward off the chilly air in the bunker while you make adorable frowny faces at him.

Dean drops you in his bed and then shoves his pants, underwear, and socks off his body in one motion while Sam flaps out his blanket like dragon wings and pounces into the bed just to make you giggle. Sam swipes his tongue between your lips, demanding, playful, and desperate, and before you can even catch up to him, he's buried his face between your breasts. As your hands move up to hold him there, Sam's already sliding between your legs, his tongue mercilessly licking you into the bed like you're an ice cream cone that's melting in the sun. Your hips arc off the bed to chase his mouth, but he's already sitting back on his haunches on the bed.

In-between pulling off his shirts and tossing them over his head in a pile, Dean watches Sam roughly tease you. "So princess, I think me and Sam have a few other parts of us that could use some warming up. You mentioned something about coming inside you to warm up."

You toss the second blanket at Dean and move to your knees on the bed, spreading the robe open, so you're still warm, but revealed. "I also mentioned that Sam was out in the cold much longer with me and that I'd warm him up first."

"Isn't that what you just did in the laundry room?" Dean grumbles, pulling the warm blanket gratefully around his naked self.

Sam smirks, not taking his eyes off you. "That was just our hands, Dean. I think our little hand warmer has a new task in mind."

You grin. "I do, as a matter of fact, and the same reward system applies." You reach out and take Sam's cock in your hands, still cold to the touch, but trying to harden. "Oh, my poor Sam. You're just about a freezy pop." You coo, with great exaggeration. "What can I do to warm you up?"

Dean would roll his eyes at your performance, but he's too interested to see where this goes.

You take one of Sam's hands in yours and pull it to you. "Now Sam, since you were out with me all that time, you get to choose first. How would you like me to warm your cock up? In my mouth?" You suck his middle and pointer fingers far enough into your mouth for your throat to flutter around the tips, swirling your tongue around his calloused pads and rough knuckles before pulling off with a slurp. "Or, between my legs?" You drag his glistening fingers down your chest, before plunging them inside you.

Sam manages to keep his composure as he pretends to consider carefully.

To be honest, Dean thinks the considering might not be an act. It's a tough choice, one he frankly can't lose out on.

Eventually, Sam leans in, cupping your face with his free hand to kiss you, as if he's sampling the product. His other hand curls his fingers inside of you until you're dripping down his knuckles. Then, he pulls back, withdraws his fingers, and puts them in his mouth, slowly licking them clean.

Dean is very tempted to fist his dick about now, but he'd rather have you warm him up, so he waits as long as he can. "Come on, Sam! My balls are gonna drop off from frostbite, here. Decide how you want our little snow blower to take care of you, already."

"What's it gonna be Sam?" You purr. "Fuck? Or suck?"

Sam's hand is still cupping your face, and he moves it back into your hair to tuck you forward, being careful not to hurt you. "Hmmm, little snow blower. I think that's exactly what I want." He pulls you forward as you smile at him, a knowing gleam in your eyes. You're just a breath away from being about to wrap your lips around the head of his cock when his hand in your hair stops you. He leans forward to whisper in your ear. "Suck. I want to taste myself on your tongue."

You tilt your head to meet his hot gaze, and he lets you, shifting his grip. "With pleasure." You move right in with hands and mouth, gently licking and massaging and sucking Sam's balls and cock to warm him.

Sam moans, looking down at you, enjoying the picture you make, lips and tongue working busily, sucking on him like he is, indeed, a popsicle. "You are so perfect, my little cock warmer." Sam murmurs, stroking your hair tenderly.

Dean shakes his head, but rather than wait, he moves behind you on the bed and slides a finger between your legs. He rubs at your opening and then your clit, delighted when you wriggle in pleasure. "Come on, Darlin'; are you really gonna make me wait until he's done?"

You shift to warm Sam's slowly-hardening cock with your hands, so you can taunt Dean a little, but you have no real intention of making either of you wait. "Maybe next time, Dean, you'll have your ass out in the snow with us sooner."

Dean pulls his finger away, tracing his slick finger over your stomach and the undersides of your breasts in swirling, teasing patterns. Then he slides his finger back in, adding a second and massaging your inner walls trying to coax you into a change of mind.

"Oh sure, don't worry about me, just trying to save to the world and all from frost giants and white walkers."

Sam chuckles and so do you.

You turn back to Dean. "You know nothing, Dean Winchester."

Dean shoots you a cocky grin as he crooks his finger just so inside you, coaxing a long keening noise from you. "Oh Darlin,' I think I know enough to keep a cock warmer like you in good, working order."

Your next words are more sound than speech as your hands continue to fondle Sam's cock. "What do you think, Sam? He does seem awful cold."

Sam cups your jaw, directing you to look at him. "I have an idea, little cock warmer."

You grin. "I love when you have those."

"I'm gonna move Dean's chair, so I can have you how I want you." He slaps your ass playfully. "While I do that, how about you use that hot, little mouth of yours to start warming up Dean's cock, so he knows what he's missing."

You stick your fingers inside yourself while they both watch, teasing both of them as you pull Dean closer to his bed and have him kneel on it. "What about what you're missing, Sam?"

Sam runs his fingers loosely over his cock to let you know how much he appreciates that view. "Oh, I had everything last night and as much as we know I always miss it, it's been longer for Dean."

Dean's not sure how to respond in terms of a counter taunt, so he just gives you a much-put-upon puppy face, his voice dropping low and enticing. "It has been a longer wait for me, baby. You gonna make me keep waiting? My cock is so cold without you." He cups his chilled length in one hand, holding himself out for you and pausing dramatically. "You could almost say, it's a freezy cock." Dean snickers at his own joke.

You crack a grin, laughing helplessly at Dean's terrible pun, while Sam rolls his eyes. You can't help it, beyond making a point to laugh whenever you get half a chance, given the life you all lead, Dean's puns are adorable.

Sam moves Dean's leather chair closer to the bed, glancing back at you now and then to watch you work. He does love to watch you enjoying yourself. He groans a little seeing you swallow Dean's cock in one long movement. You swirl your tongue a little and then replace your mouth with your hands, so you can warm his balls. "These won't get as warm where they're going." You explain, sympathetically.

Dean rubs your back. "Oh, I think they'll get plenty warm, little cock warmer, slapping against your ass." He enjoys the warm gust of air against his cold thighs when you snort laughter at his comment. Damned if he knows why making you laugh turns him on so much.

Sam's ready now, and he dips the tip of his cock into your heat to get your attention. "Hey there cock warmer, I'm all ready for you."

Your mouth waters in anticipation, and you give Dean's cock one last, loose suck getting him as wet as possible before pulling away. Sam can see the thin trail of saliva on your mouth when you turn to look at him, lips swollen, eyes dark. He moves his mouth to yours and licks any trace of his brother away until all you can taste is him. Only then does Sam show you what he did.

Dean's leather chair is moved beside Dean's bed from its usual home in the corner of the room. Sitting in the leather chair, Sam's cock is in easy reach while you lie across the corner of the bed, your breasts and head off the edge, your knees tucked under you putting your ass just off the other edge, so Dean can reach you easily.

Dean gets the picture and meets his brother's eyes for a minute. "I don't say this often or without cause, but damn, you're a genius."

You let the boys manhandle you into place. You kneel on the bed, making sure you can reach Sam, and he makes sure you're comfortable. Then Dean grabs your hips and lines himself up, teasing your opening with his fingers. Dean waits until he sees Sam's cock disappear into your mouth and Sam's head falls back before he slides himself home.

"Oh fuck, you feel . . . amazing." Dean groans, just letting himself enjoy the warmth flooding through his cock for a few minutes. The return of sensation is swift and brutal, and it makes all the freezing his ass off and sore muscles utterly worth it.

Sam has the same thought and holds your head gently on his own cock while he enjoys the heat rushing back into him. He sits there just noticing the way his cock and balls have disappeared completely from view into the warmth of your mouth and touch. The way they feel so warm now, they almost feel separate from his body, like they alone exist in some sort of warm, wet, perfect dimension, and he's just alone for the ride, lucky enough to feel what they feel.

You try to be still. Really you do. They're having a moment, and they were so cold and worked so hard. Sam's not even blocking your ability to breathe through your nose. But they feel too damn good filling you up like that. You start out moving your lips and tongue against Sam's hard length, then add suction. Sam loosens his hold and you start bobbing your head and using your increased range of motion to start wiggling your pussy around Dean's cock. Dean starts gently thrusting in and out, slow at first, trying to get as much of your hot slick out around your opening, so he can feel it against his balls when he burrows in and grinds himself against your ass.

Sam, similarly, is far more interested in going back and forth between the two warming options you're so eagerly using on him. First, you're deep-throating him while you bury your face into his lap, chin rubbing over his balls while your hands massage them gently. Then you pull up half-way, your hands wrapping tightly around the lower half of his dick, pumping him, while your lips and tongue suck and rub the top half of his cock until Sam's sure he's going to lose **his** mind.

Neither brother has any interest in having their wet, naked bits out in the open longer than necessary. Both are still half-covered by the warm blankets you brought them, while you are still covered by your robe at least on your back. Every few thrusts, Dean or Sam check to make sure the robe is still keeping you warm, because damn it's cold in the bunker.

You're loving every second of the two men you love most enjoying your body, but in spite of coming earlier, you need **it** again. You make a pleading sound around Sam's cock and look up at him with wide, desperate eyes.

Sam just adores the sight of looking down at you, wet, needy, and frantic to come for him. Sam reaches down to stroke the sides of your breasts, and then massages around the nipples with just his fingertips where they hang heavy and plush off the bed. His fingers sweep over your nipples occasionally, coaxing noises from you and making your pussy clench around Dean in a way that demands his notice.

Not to be outdone, Dean shifts his grip a little, getting his thumb slicked up with your juices and then rubbing it over your ass until he massages the unused puckered hole while you start to lose your mind. When Dean moves his other hand to rub your clit and Sam suddenly uses both his hands to play with your breasts with his fingers tug your nipples, it's the tipping point.

The deep vibration of your scream, muffled by his cock, sends Sam over the edge too. You swallow everything he has while Dean continues to thrust into you, still rubbing at you until you think you'll go blind from the pleasure of it.

"Looks like our little snow blower is running out of gas," Dean teases.

Sam helps you pull off of him and pushes you back into Dean's lap. He kisses you while you're limp and hazy, tasting himself in your mouth and gently stroking your breasts while Dean continues to stroke your clit. Sam licks himself off his lips, grinning. "And that white stuff is still coming."

You barely have the energy to stick out your tongue at them but when you do, Sam sucks it back into his mouth. He takes your breasts in his hands, rolling your nipples between his fingers while Dean keeps rubbing your clit. Then Dean moves his hands to your hips, so he can get a better angle for driving into you. Sam moves one of his hands down to take over stroking you between your thighs while Dean pounds into you. It doesn't take more than a minute before Dean feels you come all over his cock again, and Sam licks his fingers clean in front of your face while smirking shamelessly.

Dean's voice is rough when he asks Sam to help him lay you onto the bed. Still boneless, you let Dean slide out while he and Sam lay you on Dean's bed. Then Dean moves back between your legs, sliding back into you while Sam lays beside you, lazily touching himself and kissing you at convenient intervals while Dean grinds into you. Dean takes over care of your breasts, sucking one nipple into his mouth, then the other while Sam enjoys that your mouth tastes a lot like him, and a little like your slick from his licking you to your last orgasm.

Dean's close, you all know it, but he wants you to come again with him. He thumbs your clit while he nibbles on your breasts and between their combined efforts you are so close. Then Sam leans up to your ear.

"Come on, little cock warmer, you've been so good for us . . . so perfect and pliant and hot. Come for us, won't you? We want to see it." Then Sam takes your other nipple in his mouth and drags his teeth over it before adding tongue and you buck up into them.

That's what Dean's been waiting for and after a few more thrusts, it's your turn to feel a blast of heat from the inside out.

Dean collapses off to the other side of you, and the three of you lay on Dean's bed under the blankets, while you trade lazy kisses and stroking hands with the brothers.

Sam snuggles closer. "Best snow day ever."

Dean nods, grinning. "Definitely."

You smirk weakly. "I can think of only two things that could make it better?"

"That dinner you made?" Dean offers.

"Hot chocolate?" Sam suggests. "With whipped cream?"

"Ooh great suggestions, we will do both, but I was thinking a nice long soak in that therapeutic hot tub we got working. It's easily big enough for three."

Sam and Dean exchange a look and a smile.

"You called it, little brother: insatiable."

"Nap first?" You offer sympathetically.

The brothers moan an affirmative.

"You know, Dean," Sam yawns. "I have a feeling that when we all have the strength to eat, drink, and slip into the hot tub, we're gonna discover that the genius in his group is her."

Dean smirks into your skin. "Fine by me. Love me a brilliant, smartass woman."

"Aww, you guys aren't so bad yourself." You yawn, curling into their warmth.


	7. Sealed With a Kiss (DeanReader)

Sealed with a Kiss

Summary:Y/n has known the Winchesters for years. She's in love with Sam, Dean's her best friend, but now that Dean's a demon and Sam's risking everything to track him down, y/n turns to a demon deal to keep Sam safe.

Relationship:Demon Dean/Reader

It had to be done fast. You didn't have a lot of time to summon him before the man you loved got back from trying to track down his brother. You knew it was a bad idea, summoning Crowley in the middle of the New Age shop you'd broken into to get supplies for the spell, but it was less likely to get you killed than Sam finding Dean was to get Sam killed. Dean was a demon, corrupted by the Mark of Cain, and if Sam found him before you secured his safety… you didn't want to think about what would happen.

You were halfway through the incantation when the security guard came through the door of the shop, taser raised. "What are you doing? Is this some kinda devil worship?" He asked as you finished the string of latin and threw a match into the bowl.

"What? No?" You shook your head and raised your hands. "No, this is not devil worship. This, this is… I don't have a good answer."

"It's devil summoning." Crowley's voice called out and the security guard's head did a sudden 360. You flinched as he crumpled to the ground at the King of Hell's feet.

"You didn't have to do that." You whispered, taking a deep breath to calm your heart rate.

"No. But I could, so I did." Crowley stepped over the guard, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his black coat. "What do you want?"

"What, no pleasantries? No 'Hello, darling'?" You said, trying to sound like you weren't nervous as hell.

"You called me. I'm busy. What do you want?" He repeated. He looked around the room. "No Devil's Trap, so obviously this isn't an ambush coordinated with Moose."

"Sam doesn't know."

"That's an understatement." Dean's voice behind you made you tense. You turned enough to see him leaning against the wall behind you, picking his nails with a small black knife. "Sammy's a bit oblivious. He still hasn't figured out you're in love with him and that's been right in front of his face since the Apocalypse."

You licked your lips. Dean had never said anything about your feelings, but you knew he knew. He was your best friend, there was no hiding anything from him. You shook your head and turned your focus back to Crowley. "I'd like to make a deal for Sam's safety."

"Really?" Crowley tilted his head.

"He's gonna keep going after Dean. He's like that. When he does, I want no harm to come to him."

"And in return, you'll give me?" Crowley led, pulling his right hand from his pocket and making circles in the air, telling you to continue.

"Anything." You whispered.

Dean sucked air through his teeth behind you and you closed your eyes to fight back your nerves. Crowley looked over your shoulder, having a silent conversation with Dean. "My associate behind you will make certain the terms." Crowley stepped back and you could feel Dean step up behind you. "Have fun, Dean." And with that, Crowley was gone.

Dean's fingers danced across the back of your neck as he pulled your hair away and collected it on your right shoulder. "Anything, huh?" He leaned down, dropping his chin to your shoulder heavily. "That's a bit broad, y/n. Maybe we should narrow it down to something I want from you."

"Which is?" You whispered.

"You know, it's always bugged the fuck outta me that you spent all these years fawning over Sam when I was right fuckin' there. What's he got worth makin' a deal over, huh?"

"The old Dean would know the answer to that." Your voice was shaking as he turned his head to run his nose along your hairline.

"You remember when I went to Purgatory, y/n? You remember him fuckin' abandoning you to go live with some bitch and her dog?" He whispered, low in your ear. You swallowed. "You remember him kicking you out of the bunker when he found out that you knew about Gadreel? That wasn't even that long ago, sweetheart. Oh, and we don't mention how he used you when he was soulless, do we?"

You closed your eyes to contain the tears that those memories conjured for you. Sex was nothing more than a physical imperative for Sam when he didn't have his soul to make him crave an emotional connection, so he'd taken you every time you were in the same city and you'd let him because you would do anything for Sam… even things that made you feel dirty and low.

"Is that what you want from me, Dean?" You made yourself say the words, but you knew, from the way his left hand was slowly searching under your shirt and across your abs, that was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to use you just like Sam had.

"What I want, sweetheart, is for you to be mine. That's the deal, y/n, Sam doesn't get hurt by me, Crowley, or any denizen of Hell, as long as you're mine."

"Clarify 'yours'." You demanded, softly. You didn't think Dean would fuck you over, but… this wasn't quite Dean.

"Good girl." He chuckled. "You stay with me, by my side and in my bed. You take what I give you without complaint, just like you did for Sam."

"You're not gonna… make me…" You took a deep breath as his hand skimmed along the underside of your bra. "When you say 'by your side', you're not gonna make me participate in any of the-"

"You might see some shit you don't wanna see, but I think someone who's been raised in the life… you can handle it. I'm not gonna make you kill anybody." He promised.

"Put that in the contract." You whispered and he chuckled.

"Okay, sweetheart. It's in the contract, no being made to participate in murder."

"Or the cleanup." You added.

"Who cleans up? I'm a demon."

"And Sam stays safe?" You clarified, again.

He hummed. "Unharmed by demons. Best I can do. Can't keep him from doin' other stupid shit."

"Okay."

He moved quickly, grabbing your shoulder and turning you to face him. You looked up into his normally bright green eyes and gasped to see them black. "Get used to it, y/n. You're gonna be seein' the black a lot from now on. Now, fuckin' kiss me so we can get this show on the road."

You took a deep breath and reached up to wrap your hands around the back of Dean's neck. You tried to focus on the things that were attractive about Dean, and there was plenty… from his strong jawline to his deep voice, the scruff on his cheeks to his plump lips. You'd never denied he was handsome. He just wasn't Sam… and Sam was the reason you were doing this. You pulled his head down and pressed your lips to his, effectively kissing your life away.

His hands dropped to your hips, pulling you roughly against him and deepening the kiss. When Dean pulled back, his eyes were green again. "Welcome to your new life, sweetheart. Let's get a drink to celebrate." He grabbed your hand and the world spun around you, your insides twisting as you appeared in the parking lot of a bar. He waved at you to follow and you did. You had to. "Hey, Anna Marie. Two whiskeys, neat." Dean ordered as soon as he walked into the bar.

The blond by the bar tensed, then turned to get the drinks. "Take it you've been here before?" You whispered as Dean pulled out a chair on one side of the table he chose and moved to sit in the chair next to it. You dropped into the chair he'd pulled for you and looked around.

"Couple times. I mean, only came back 'cause this is where the car is. Thought you might wanna ride in the style to which you've grown accustomed."

The blond dropped the drinks on the table and stepped away quickly. "And her? She, uh, doesn't seem happy to see you."

"Don't worry about it."

"Dean-"

His eyes flashed to yours. "I said don't worry about it. You better get good at following directions, sweetheart, or this is gonna be hard on you." He picked up his whiskey and took a sip, watching you over his glass.

You picked up your glass and took a small drink. "So, this is what you meant by 'by your side'? Hang out in divey roadhouses and drink shitty whiskey?"

Dean smirked. "Mostly, yeah. Bit of karaoke… lotta sex." You swallowed another mouthful of whiskey to combat the idea that you probably wrote a check that your body was most definitely going to have trouble cashing. "I'll go easy on you to start with. Won't toss you in the deep end 'til I know you can swim."

You looked at your tumbler. "Can I ask you something, D.?"

"You're gonna ask 'why', aren't'cha? Why didn't I just take your soul in payment like any other demon would've?" You nodded, slightly, still looking at the glass. "The old Dean, he fuckin' loved you."

Your eyes shot up to his. "What?"

He smirked and nodded. "Yep. Figured it out about the time you were putting your feet behind your ears for the soulless guy, when I was living with Lisa and her runt. Doin' the domestic thing, but I just couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you. Dreaming about you. Not wet dreams, just dreams of doing the apple pie thing with you, someone I actually gave a damn about… and thinking back, I didn't really have anything in common with Lisa. She was just normal, her apple pie came premade." Dean shook his head and clicked his tongue. "Pissed me off to no end when I found your bra under Sammy's bed in Carson City, realized he was using your feelings for him to get what he wanted outta you. So, now, I'm using your feelings for him to get what I want outta you."

As you contemplated the past several years of your friendship with Dean, how well he had hidden his feelings, your phone went off in your pocket, the short drum solo tone that meant Sam was texting. Dean held out his hand and he didn't have to say the words to make you hand over your phone without having a chance to read the message. "Aww, Sam's worried 'cause you weren't at the bunker when he got back." Dean said, mockingly. He rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna need you to call him. He's gotta hear your voice when you tell him that you're not in any danger, you just got tired of being undervalued and you've gone off to find a better place for you to use your brain and heart. Oh, and don't forget that I know all of your code words."

You bit your bottom lip as Dean handed the phone back, already dialing out to Sam's number. "Y/n? Where are you? You can't just disappear like this."

"Look, I'm fine, Sam. I'm not in any danger. I just… couldn't sit around that bunker waiting for you to start valuing me."

"Wh-what is that supposed to mean?"

"Dean was the only one who valued me and he's gone so… I'm gonna go find someone who will. Look, I'm fine so just… have a nice life, Sam."

"Y/n, wait, I-"

You hung up and looked across the table at Dean. "Good girl." He smirked as he slid his mostly-full glass across the table. Your eyes widened. You weren't a whiskey girl. You had no tolerance for it. Dean knew that two glasses of straight whiskey would have you three sheets to shitfaced in no time. "Go on. Drink. Want you to relax, y/n. I need you limber for what I got planned."

You downed the rest of yours and grimaced as you picked his glass up. Your hand shook as you raised the tumbler to your mouth, so he reached forward and tipped the bottom of the glass up with two fingers. As you fought down the gagging feeling, he smirked at you, his tongue tucked under his two front teeth. "There ya go. That wasn't so bad, was it?" You made yourself shake your head. He nodded and stood, pulling out his wallet and handing you a twenty. "I'm gonna pull the car around. You go settle the tab."

You nodded and walked to the bar as he walked out. The blond turned a worried gaze on you. "Are you okay? Do you want me to call the cops for you?"

"What? No."

"Look, I don't think you know this guy. He's an asshole, and he's dangerous."

You scoffed. "I know him better than you… on all counts. He's everything you just said… but so am I, and you… you're just some skank he took for a ride and can't get past the bitterness. Keep the change."

Dean smiled as you slid into the Impala and he peeled out of the parking lot. "She try to rescue you from me?"

"Yes, but you knew she would. It's why you left me alone with her, to see how I'd react."

"Had to know how devoted you are to keeping up your end of the deal."

"Glad I passed your test." You grumbled.

"Me, too. Woulda sucked to have to kill you. Especially before I've had a chance to fuck you." By the time you got to the motel, the whiskey was hitting you and your head had started to go dizzy. He helped you into the room with a strong arm around your waist. He kicked the door shut and dropped you to the bed, watching as you tried to get your bearings. "Damn, y/n/n, who knew you were such a fuckin' lightweight?"

"You did." You insisted.

"That is true. Y/n cannot shoot whiskey. It's a universal truth." He licked his lips and dropped to his knees next to the bed, pulling at your boot laces. "One probably woulda been enough, but I needed you pliant." He pulled your boots off and tossed each over his shoulder.

He stood, pulling your jeans off your body in one quick motion and dropping them to the floor before moving to straddle your thighs. "See, I don't wanna scare you. Way I see it, your sex life has been depressingly vanilla. I think I remember you saying you don't even like oral, on you which, don't worry I'll fix that for you, baby." You grimaced at the thought of Dean, anyone really, going down on you. You had never had an enjoyable oral experience, giving or receiving, but you guessed you were gonna have to get used to it.

"But my tastes have never been vanilla. Even when I was human, they were the sort of thing that would've got me sent to Hell even if I hadn't sold my soul. So, I need you to play easily, not hold back. No fear, baby."

You looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "You're not gonna hurt me, right?"

"Nothin' permanent, and nothin' you won't come to enjoy." He answered, pulling out the little black knife from earlier.

"Then, I…" You swallowed as he brought the blade to the collar of your t-shirt and tucked it into the hem. "I trust you, Dean."

"You really shouldn't, but okay." A quick jerk of his hand had your shirt split down the middle and the air frozen in your lungs. The calloused fingertips of his left hand skated across the flesh of your breasts peeking out of your favorite Soma bra. "This is sexy. Love a matching set." He quickly snapped the elastic band on your underwear.

"It's my favorite." You whispered.

"Not anymore." That's all the warning he gave before the knife sliced through the fabric between the cups and he sliced the straps. "Oh, shit. You have some nice tits, y/n. Yeah, I think you're not gonna be wearing a bra, from now on. When I let you wear clothes, that is."

You were expecting the destruction of your panties. He gave you time to prepare for that one, dragging the blunt side of the knife down your body very slowly. He cut through the material just as slowly. When the fabric fell open, he gave a little breathy scoff. "Shaved or waxed?"

You cleared your throat. "Laser. Ideal Image in Kansas City." Your breath caught as he rubbed his thumb across the small patch of hair you'd had the hair removal specialist leave behind.

"That's fuckin' nice. I like that." He slid his thumb down and dipped it between your pussy lips, brushing against your clit and making you jump. "When was the last time you came, y/n?" Your brain recognized that words should be forming in your mouth, but you couldn't make them. Your mouth hung open, your breath coming in short as his thumb drew circles on your little bundle of nerves. He seemed happy at your overwhelmed silence, smiling down at you. "Come on, sweetheart, I asked you a question."

"I… I made myself… um… when'd you kill Abaddon? Right after that."

"Wow! I can't even grasp going that long. How long since you've had a cock filling this pretty pussy up?"

You bit your lip. You didn't want to answer that one. His eyebrows jumped and he set you with an incredulous look. "Calumet City. The Veritas thing."

He barked out a laugh. "You haven't been fucked since Sam was soulless? No roadhouse dickbags or… other hunters or…" You just shook your head. It wasn't that you couldn't have had sex with rando assholes across the country, it was that you were in love with Sam and you just didn't want to share yourself with anyone else. "It's been literal years since you had sex. No wonder you're so responsive."

He removed his hand and slid down your body, hooking your legs over his shoulders and turning his head to bite and kiss at your inner thighs. You whined as heat started to bloom deep in your core. You hated oral. Hated it, but Dean Winchester with his face between your legs was something… intoxicating. More than the whiskey still making your head swim, the slow and torturous approach Dean was going for was making you crazy. The little biting kisses he was leaving on the path to your pussy, the pressure of his hands holding your abs down to minimize your jerking movements, the way he pointed his tongue to place just a small amount of tickling, teasing wetness across your skin. It didn't feel like being eaten out. Being eaten out had always felt dirty and sloppy and slobbery. Even when Sam did it, it was drooly.

When Dean used the fingers of his left hand to open your pussy lips and sucked your clit into his mouth, you screamed. He hummed appreciatively at your reaction, his tongue flicking at your clit as his lips massaged the bud, sending shockwaves through your body. You cried his name as your inner walls fluttered around nothing. He leaned back, smirking. "You just cum?"

"Yuh."

"Good. Let's do it again." He chuckled before lowering his mouth to you again. There wasn't anything teasing about this one, his teeth scraping at you, one hand pushing you up against his face harder while he pumped two fingers of the other hand in and out of you until you came hard enough to see stars in your eyes. He didn't stop when you came this time, though, fucking you with his fingers through it and rushing you toward a third.

"Dean, please!" You begged, pushing at his head to get him away from your oversensitive clit.

Black eyes stared up from between your thighs and you forced back the gasp. "I'm done when I say I'm done, y/n/n. Not a minute sooner." He bit the inside of your left thigh, roughly, and it made you whimper to see blood on his lips when he focused back on your clit, fingers curling inside of you.

Three, four, five, you were crying by the time he forced the sixth orgasm out of you, but you didn't try to stop him. Your limbs were too close to jelly to even try to lift a hand to stop him, not that you could. You almost thanked him when he pulled away, but you stopped yourself. You were certain he wouldn't like that. He stared down at you for a few moments, his black eyes staring into yours. "You look so fucking good. I am gonna enjoy havin' you." He jumped off the bed, pulling his clothes off as you watched, almost immobile. You swallowed as his pants and boxers came down, leaving him completely bare, hard cock jutting out proudly. He was just as big as Sam and you couldn't help but remember how Sam had hurt you every time you'd had sex. You didn't try to hide your fear.

He climbed over your body and pressed his lips to yours, licking into your mouth. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and you liked it, you moaned. He kept kissing you, tongue rolling across yours, as he reached between your bodies and lined himself up with your entrance and started to slowly push in. You whimpered, grabbing his shoulders as he kept going. He was going slowly, letting your body adjust and it took long minutes before he was fully seated inside you, balls resting against your ass. He stopped kissing you, took your earlobe in between his teeth and tugged it, lightly. "You good?" He grunted.

"Good. I'm good." You responded, gripping his shoulders tighter.

He pulled out until just the head of his cock was inside of you and then he pushed back in. You'd expected him to slam forward, Sam always had, but he didn't. He moved with purpose and that purpose wasn't to cause pain. Your head fell back hard into the pillow as he fucked you with long, languid strokes. He leaned down to nip at your collarbone, licking and kissing across your shoulder as his left hand groped at your breast. You arched against him, moaning loudly, his name and various expletives rambling out of your mouth between the moans.

From Dean's mouth fell praises and promises, words that made you forget that the warm body on top of you was a demon, words that made you think maybe your best friend hadn't really died, his soul hadn't been corrupted, he wouldn't end up like Cain. "I've wanted you like this for fuckin' years. Never gonna let you go, now. Never. You're mine." He pressed his lips to yours as he picked up his pace, still taking care not to hurt you, still not going anywhere near as hard as you were sure he could, but adding speed to get himself to his end, knowing that it would just take a single touch of your overstimulated clit to get you to cum.

"Oh, god, Dean!" You screamed as you came, even though he hadn't shifted to touch your clit, yet. He growled as your walls clenched hard around him, burying his face in your neck as your orgasm pulled him over to the edge into his own and he came deep within you.

"Fuck. That was… fuck." He chuckled as he pulled out of you and dropped to the bed next to you. "Always knew your pussy was fuckin' awesome." You gave an airy chuckle. Your best friend might have changed, but he was still Dean. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you against him. "And it's all mine."

You nodded, before resting your head against his muscular chest. "Yeah. All yours."

You spent the next few days in bed almost constantly. Dean never did the harsh stuff he'd alluded to, never tried to hurt you. None of it was 'vanilla' but it wasn't the Hell worthy action Dean promised. Not that you'd complain on that.

When he knew Sam had found him, he told you to run, hide, don't answer your phone for anyone but him, he'd find you when the dust all settled. Two nights later, your phone went off with a text message.

**Sam cured me. Its over**

You tried to call him, but he sent you straight to voicemail after two rings.

**He doesnt no u were w/ me just give it a few days and call him**

You started to tap out a response, angry that he wouldn't talk to you, but your phone buzzed with another message halfway through.

**But dont come back to the bunker. There is no place for you here.**

You stared at the screen for as long as you could bear. It might have been ancient Sumerian for all you could comprehend it. 'No place for you'? The Winchesters had always made a place for you.

You took a deep breath, wiped at the tears of loss rolling down your cheeks, erased the angry text and typed out a new one. **If that's what you want, Dean. **You knew you wouldn't get an answer to it.

Chapter 2: The Direct Approach

Chapter Text

There was a time when seeing Sam Winchester walk into a bar would have made you light up Christmas tree. There was a time when you would've jumped out of your chair and run up to him, wrapped your arms around his massive chest and told him that it had been too long, even if it had only been a few days. When he walked into the bar off the interstate just outside of St. Louis, though, you slumped in your chair. It only made you feel a little bit better to see his brother didn't follow him through the doorway.

You watched Sam's eyes scan the room, looking for familiar faces, friendly or otherwise, and his lips twitched into a small smile when he saw you. You contemplated going out the back door of the bar while he was turned around at the bar to order his beer, but you knew he'd just follow you. Not coming back to the bunker was one thing but actively running away from him was a completely separate thing.

He smiled as he sat down, setting a fresh beer bottle in front of you. "Hey, y/n. It's been too long."

You nodded and picked at the label on the beer. "Yeah. It has."

"How's it been?"

"It's been life. You?"

"Uh, it's been okay. I, uh, I found Dean, cured him. He's still got the Mark of Cain, but he's not a demon, anymore." You nodded, biting your lip. "You ever find someone to value you?"

"Thought I had, but… no dice." You answered, focusing on peeling the label off all in one piece and not looking up at Sam's multicolored eyes.

"Well, then, maybe you should come back to the bunker, y/n. Dean misses you. I miss you. It's quiet without you there."

"Has he said that?" You somehow managed to keep the pain out of your voice as you spoke. "Has Dean even mentioned me since he's been back?" Sam was silent so you nodded. You wouldn't explain to the giant, but that answered everything. "I can't go back there, Sam. Thanks for the invite, but…" You shook your head and stood. "And thanks for the beer." You left it sitting on the table.

You started to walk away but Sam grabbed your wrist. "Dean needs you. You were always a calming influence on him, y/n. He can relax around you. He needs that. The Mark is messing him up in ways I can't even describe and he needs you. He just killed Cain a few hours ago, and… Dean needs you."

You snatched your wrist away from him and shook your head. "I can't go back, Sam. There's no place for me there. If Dean needs me, he knows how to get a hold of me."

"And if I do?"

You scoffed. "Never in your life have you needed me, Sam. Took me years to figure that out. You're not gonna get me to do what you want by preying on my emotions." You patted his shoulder and walked away.

You stared at the ceiling of your motel room. You missed the bunker. You missed the Winchesters. You missed hunting with them, living with them, being a part of a team, a family. You missed having a place. You'd thought about it every day since Dean told you to stay away.

You knew why he'd done it. You had thought through the scenario a million times. Dean, who realized he loved you years ago and watched you fall all over his brother even longer, had woken up and felt guilty about what he'd done. He felt guilty about letting you make that deal, about telling you how he felt, about using your feelings for Sam to get you to let him use your body. He didn't want to deal with it, so he made you create distance.

You didn't hold it against him. You weren't mad that he couldn't face you. You just wished he would have given you the opportunity to talk it out with him. You wished you could have told him that you had never felt anything like your bodies melding together, how his words of praise had been the sweetest tribute anyone had ever spoken to you, that you replayed the words in your head more than you replayed the memories of your bodies' motions. You wished you hadn't wasted so much time pining over Sam.

Sam wasn't sure how to approach it. Dean needed his rest. He needed to never lay hands on the First Blade again. And he needed y/n. If they worked together, Sam and Cas and y/n could keep Dean from falling apart, Sam was sure of it. But y/n denied him. Why would she purposely stay away from the only guy who "ever valued her"? Why would she think she didn't have a place right next to her best friend? Why wouldn't she want to help him?

She had to have run into Dean while he was running around with Crowley. He must've said or done something cruel that she couldn't forgive, that Dean couldn't apologize for. That was the only explanation for why their friendship just ceased. If Sam could find out what happened, maybe he could fix it. But how to start that conversation with Dean?

"The direct approach is usually best, Sam." Dean's voice cut through Sam's thoughts and he took a breath. He had been staring as his brother cooked himself some breakfast. "I'm fine, dude. Nothing some coffee and bacon won't fix."

Sam scoffed. "That's not exactly true, Dean." He ran his fingers through his hair, scratching at the back of his neck. ***Direct approach.*** "So, on the way home, I stopped to get a drink outside of St. Louis and, uh, I saw y/n." Dean tensed. He shook it off immediately by focusing on the bacon in the pan in front of him, but just the mention of y/n had him tense. "She seemed a bit… I dunno, man, she seemed sad. She's traveling alone, probably hunting solo, too. I tried to get her to come back to the bunker, but she said-"

"She can't." Dean interrupted. "She cannot come back here, Sam. I can't deal with her."

"Why? What happened? You two… you two were so close and-"

"She only hung around as long as she did because she was in love with you, Sam!" Dean shook his head, flicking the burner under his bacon off because the conversation had stolen his appetite. "She is so in love with you that she went to Crowley to make a deal for your safety so that you wouldn't get killed tryin' to track me down."

Sam's mouth gaped. "She what?"

"Yeah and Crowley handed control of her contract over to his favorite Knight of Hell, who didn't want her soul, he just wanted her body. 'cause I may not have been able to love her when I was a demon, but I damn sure wanted her." Dean leaned against the counter, holding the edge so tight his knuckles whited. "I… days, Sam. I had her for days. I used her for days and if you hadn't come to get me… She wouldn't forgive me like she did you. She'd come back because she wants to be around you, but I can't see her look at me and remember that. I can't see her grovel for your attention, anymore, either. She'd hate me but endure it for you. She would do anything for you. So, I told her not to come back, Sam. It's better for everyone."

Sam stood to block Dean's retreat from the kitchen. "It's not better for you. It's not better for her. She could barely look at me, Dean. She avoided my eyes, she flinched away when I grabbed her hand. It's not me she's in love with, anymore." Dean avoided Sam's eyes, too, but there were tears brimming in the elder Winchester's lashes. "She asked if you talked about her. She was hurt that you hadn't said word one about her absence. She said if you needed her, you knew how to get a hold of her. She wants you to call, Dean."

Dean shook his head, scoffing loudly. "What, so she finally got done waiting for you to realize she's fuckin' amazing and that means she's waiting on me to pick up the phone?" He put his hand on Sam's shoulder and pushed him out of the way. "Leave it alone, Sam. Leave her alone."

"Dean, fuckin' talk to her!" Sam yelled at his brother's back as it retreated down the hallway.

You thought you might be dreaming when the guitar riff ringtone sounded through your motel room. Guitar was Dean and Dean couldn't possibly be texting you. You grabbed the phone from your bedside table when it went off a second time.

**Hey**

**Heard u ran n2 Sam**

All you could think to respond with was **Yeah **and then you fell into the limbo of waiting to see if he'd keep texting you.

**Said u were alone thinks u r hunting alone**

Again, all you sent back was **Yeah**.

**Thats ducking stupid y/n. Thats gonna get u killed**

You took a deep breath and tapped out a response longer than a single affirmation. **What do you want me to do, Dean?**

His response was rapid. **Find sum1**

Your response was just as fast. **Can't**.

**Y the fuck not**

**Because I'm yours. If I'm not with you, I'm not with anybody.**

Long minutes passed after you hit 'send' on that message, or maybe they just felt longer than normal as you stared at your cell phone screen and tapped your fingers at the back of the phone case. "Come on, Dean. Say something." You whispered to the universe.

**The deal is void, y/n. I'm not a demon anymore.**

You let out a sigh of relief and smiled at his lack of shorthand, punctuation and grammar showing itself in his sudden seriousness. **I don't care. I'm not talking about the deal, Dean. I'm talking about**

You stopped typing at that, your thumbs hovering over the touchscreen keyboard. How were you supposed to put it into words? What words were the right ones to convey how much you missed him?

**Moulin Rouge. Cuddling up together in your room and watching beautiful, sad movies together and telling Sam we're watching slasher flicks so he won't make fun of us for crying when Satine dies.** Sent.

**I'm talking about you distracting me with jokes and beers when Sam would flirt with random roadhouse chicks. I'm talking about being closer to you than I've ever been to anyone and somehow completely missing that we were supposed to be together. **Sent. You swallowed and started another.

**I hate that it took you being a demon to admit it and I hate that my deal might have ruined us, but… I cherish the memories, especially the ones after I made that deal. I'm yours, Dean. Should've always been. **Sent.

You waited. You'd poured your heart out, you'd said exactly what was needed, now all you could do was see if Dean was going to respond… what he would respond. Which he didn't do.

You fell asleep waiting for your phone to play that fucking guitar riff, but it never happened. You woke the next morning and checked your phone, just in case you missed a message while you were out. Nothing. You nodded, steeling yourself against the feelings of hopelessness. This morning was no different than the morning before or the one before that. You were still alone. You were still a hunter. You still had a job to do.

You put on your black pantsuit with your lilac button-up shirt and headed for the coroner's office. The receptionist pointed you down the hall to room B22 without a word, looking almost like she'd expected you, and when you pushed open the swinging door into the morgue you saw why. The Winchesters were standing over the victim, wearing their fed suits, and they both looked up when you walked in. "There she is. Agent Joplin, you're late." Sam said, happily.

You swallowed. "Yeah. Traffic. Sorry." You plastered a fake smile on your lips and walked up to the metal slab. "What do we got?"

"Exsanguinated DB with a chunk outta the shoulder." Sam answered. You looked down at the body, but your body was tense. Dean was staring at you, looking for something but you weren't sure what.

You tried to ignore him, focus on the body, the facts Sam and the coroner were telling you that made you certain that it was the vamp you thought it was when you pulled up the article the day before. You thanked the doctor and headed out, heels clicking on the linoleum as you tried to rush out of the building before the brothers. Dean's eyes on you were making you uncomfortable. Sam fell back as you entered the parking garage, but Dean rushed to your side. "Where are you going, y/n?"

"To my car, Dean." You answered.

"Why?"

"Because I poured my heart out last night and didn't get a reply."

"You don't think me trackin' you down and showin' up on your hunt is a reply?" He asked, grabbing your arm and turning you to face him. He walked you backwards until your back was pressing against the closest SUV. "Tracked your phone, figured out what hunt you were likely on, got here first so I could see you, see you when you saw Sam." He looked into your eyes, searching for something there. "You don't look at 'im like you used to." He whispered.

You swallowed and tried to control your breathing, in order to control your heart rate. "How could I look at Sam when you're right there?"

"And if I wasn't?" He pressed closer to you, boxing you in with his arms against the SUV. "If it was just you and Sam?

"I'd leave… just like I did in St. Louis." You panted out.

"You don't… you don't…" He brushed his nose against yours and you closed your eyes.

"I'm yours, Dean. I'm yours or I'm no one's." You whispered.

He gasped and pressed his lips to yours. You grabbed his suit jacket and pulled him closer, opening your mouth and licking his full lips until he opened them and licked at your tongue. He tasted just how you remembered, save for the absence of that ever-so-slight sulphuric taste that disappeared with his black eyes. "You mean it?" He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes.

You looked into his bright green orbs and nodded. "I love you, Dean."

He pressed a forceful kiss to your lips and pulled away, grabbing your hand. "Where's your car, y/n/n?" You nodded to the left and started walk away, dragging the much larger man behind you.

"You're comin' home after this case, y/n." You bit back the smile as you approached your nondescript Ford sedan and Dean pushed you against the trunk. "Never gonna let you go again." He said, before attacking your neck with his lips.

"I'm gonna hold you to that this time, Winchester." You sassed, before pushing him away, lightly. "Let's get to a bed, huh?"

Dean practically flew around to the passenger side of your car as you clicked the button to unlock it and dropped yourself into the driver's seat. "Let's go!" He demanded and you giggled.

"Yes, sir."

He grinned. "I like that."

"What?" You looked over at him as you followed the arrows to the garage exit. "You want me to call you 'sir', Dean?"

"No. Maybe sometimes." He leaned over and set his hand on your thigh, massaging gently. "Today I'll take 'Oh, god'." You bit your lip and put your foot down, speeding away from the hospital toward the motel. You were barely through the door of your motel room when Dean grabbed your suit jacket and pulled it off, dropping it to the floor. "This is such a pretty color on you." He kissed your neck and wrapped his arms around you, unbuttoning your lilac shirt as he walked your toward the bed.

You pulled the shirt off as soon as it was unbuttoned and turned around to unhook your bra. You dropped it to the floor and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. "I've been thinking about this for months." You whispered, going to unbutton his suit shirt.

"I've been thinking about it for years." He smiled as he pulled the shirt and jacket down his arms, throwing them across the room. "You wanting me. No alcohol, no demon deal, just… you…"

"I love you, Dean."

"Sayin' that." He bit his lip as he put his hands on your hip and walked you backward to the bed. "Almost feels like a djinn dream." He laid you back and pulled your pants down your legs.

"I'm your idea of a perfect world?" you asked, breathlessly.

"Sweetheart, I ever die again, you're gonna be my Heaven." He climbed between your thighs and looked up at you before snagging the material of your panties between his teeth and tugging them down with just a little help from his fingertips on each side.

"That's gonna be weird since you share a Heaven with you brother."

"Well, if Heaven ain't you, I don't wanna go." He said, climbing up your body and pressing his lips to yours.

You smirked. "Maybe we shouldn't have watched Moulin Rouge so many times. You're starting to sound like a chick flick."

He smiled down at you. "Well, why don't we switch the channel to Casa Erotica, huh?"

"We're already naked and you're hard against my leg. If we don't get to the erotica soon, I think I'm gonna cry, Dean."

He laughed. "Me, too, baby." He wrapped his hand around his length and rubbed his cockhead along your slit. "Fuck. You're wet. How are you wet? I've barely done anything."

"You're hot." You leaned up, kissing him. "I love you. Your kisses are sexy as fuck… and anticipation is a hell of a drug."

He pressed in slowly, his lips trailing along your jawline and neck. "Fuck, baby."

"Dean." You whined, the painful stretch making your body tremble.

"Shh. I got you." He rolled his hips, watching your face as you whimpered in pleasure. "Love the sounds you make. God, I could cum just from the little whiny noises you make."

"Don't. At least get me close before you cum." you whispered.

"Have I ever left you unsatisfied?" He nipped at your earlobe, making you moan.

"Well, black-eyed Dean never did, but-"

He pulled back, holding himself up on his forearms. "You are not challenging me, woman."

"No. Of course not. I'm just saying… "

"Uh-huh." He rolled his hips again, then pulled his hips back, pushing back in quickly but not forcefully. You threw your head back as he started to thrust, grunting with each sweep of his hips. His sounds got you just as much as your sounds got to him. The way he dropped his hand to your thigh to press his fingers into your flesh, the way his lips felt against your neck, the way his body dictated every move your body made. "You feel so fucking amazing, so good, y/n." And when the praises started, there was no holding yourself together.

When you came, it was with a harsh cry that tore from your throat. He growled as you clenched around him, leaning up to kiss you passionately. "Can I cum in you? Or… where you want it, baby?"

"I'm not on anything," you admitted, breathless from the orgasm and the kiss. He stopped, looking down into your eyes. "The risk is up to you."

He smiled, just a little at the corners of his mouth, pressed his lips to yours again and started to thrust with abandon. He grunted, letting out a shaky breath when he came deep inside you. "Fuck." He sighed as he pulled out and flopped next to you.

You settled against his chest, running your fingertips along his abs. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too. I'm sorry I told you not to come back. I was an idiot."

"Yeah. But you're my idiot, so…"

He chuckled. "You were supposed to say 'no, it's not a big deal. I totally understand, Dean'."

"I do understand." You looked up at him. "I understand you feeling guilty about what happened, but… you, even as a demon, treated me better than anyone I've ever been with. I just want to be with you, Dean. Don't ever send me away again."

"Never," he promised, as he ran his hand over the mark on his forearm. "No escapin' me now, y/n/n. Now, get a little rest. We need to go at least one more round before go track down that vamp."

You nodded against him and reached over to pull his hand off of the Mark, resting your own palm over it, instead. "You rest, too," you whispered. He nodded, running his hand down your back as your eyes fluttered closed.


	8. Sam's Angry (DeanReaderSam)

Sam's Angry

Sam stumbles upon the Reader and Dean defiling his research.

"Really?" Sam sounds beyond annoyed. You couldn't help yourself from grinning against the polished surface of the library table Dean had you pinned to.

"Lighten up, Sammy," he offers as he shoves your hips against the tables edge, his hand holding the back of your neck flush to the table so you couldn't even look at his little brother.

"That research has taken months to compile!" Sam argues. "And you two could not find any other spot to do that?"

You raise one hand, twisting it apologetically through the air. "I was just sitting here minding my own business, reading that," you point to the 16th century vellum book open on the table among the smattering of papers, notebooks, photographs, and print offs. "This," your hand gestures to Dean and yourself, "was his idea," you insist as you pant against the table top.

"Yeah it looks like he completely had to twist your arm there, Y/N." You hear Sam walk into the Men of Letters research room, a slow shuffle of his feet. You notice his movements didn't seem to even phase Dean who kept up the same rhythm he had before Sam's appearance. Your pussy constricts involuntarily around Dean's cock as Sam's hand appears on the back of the chair across from you. You watch as he slowly lowers himself into the seat, his eyes dilated and focused only on you. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, before he flicks his gaze up to Dean. They seem to share one of those silent brotherly chats that normally annoy the crap out of you but Sam's eyes are back on you before you can get even a tiny bit upset at their absence.

He leans forward, folding his hands and laying his arms parallel to the table edge. He is slow, methodical in his movements, making you wonder what is going on in that pretty little head of his.

Dean's angle changes behind you, and you see stars form in your eyes as you clench your legs tighter together, the apologetic hand flying to grip his hip. "Mother of God," you hear him mumble, his thrusts faltering for a moment. He moves his hand from your neck to the middle of your back.

"And here I thought you were just a quiet little book worm," Sam starts, his voice self assured as he hooks a finger under your chin, making you look at him. That tongue of his appears again, drawing your attention back to his lips, your body tightening around Dean's cock in response, making you both moan.

Sam's finger meanders up your chin and gently traces your lips, his eyes following the digit. For a brief second you wish it was his tongue and in a flash you were at the point of no return. Gripping the edge of the table with one hand, the other grasping at the perfectly polished surface below you, your body hurdles over the precipice of joy and you tremble below Dean. You hear him growl, his thrusts turning deeper, sawing into you as you ride the wave of pleasure.

As you pant out your release, you hear Sam chuckle darkly, his hand moving over your cheek, a finger anchoring under your jaw bone to keep your head up. When you can finally open your eyes, you find him leaned back in his chair, smirk firmly in place.

"Dirty girl," he says smugly, his hand sliding down your neck, making your eyes fall close as you lean into his touch. "Ah-ah, eyes open, Y/N," he insists, his hand pausing.

Ripping your eyes open, you find his dark eyes closer now as his fingertips dipped under the collar of your shirt. "Dean was so eager to get in your pants, he didn't even bother ridding you your shirt." Sam clicks his tongue. You weren't going to argue with him, but truth is you had been teasing his older brother for the better part of the day. Between suggestive texts, glimpses of you coming out of the shower room in a towel no bigger than a postage stamp, and leaving your door open as you dressed, you knew you were damn lucky Dean hadn't torn the clothes he did take off your body.

Sam pulls your shirt off, leaving you in just your bra and the panties Dean had shoved to the side to get inside you "That's better," he smiles at you, as he scoots his chair closer to the table, his hand ghosting over your shoulder, making you tremble at the soft touch in stark contrast to the bruises Dean was putting across your hips bones.

Raising on your elbows, you look up at Sam's face, watching his eyes follow the trail of his fingers over your skin. Reaching out one hand, you pluck at the buttons on the front of his shirt with your fingers, some sliding open, others not. It's hard to make your fingers work properly when Dean begins to erratically fuck you across the table. Crossing your ankles, you arch your ass in the air. Sam's eyes fall back on you as Dean hisses his appreciation. Tangling your hand in the front of his shirt, you drag him closer, pressing your lips to his as Dean's hips stutter behind you, his fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises. Sam's tongue is in your mouth before you can blink and your own tongue joins the age old dance as his hands settle on either side of your face, holding you in place as he plunders your mouth. Dean slumps forward, settling his forehead to between your shoulder blades as he catches his breath. You don't seem to even notice as he presses a kiss to your skin before standing upright. You do notice when he withdraws from you, making you hiss at the sudden loss of him inside you.

Sam's hand comes up to brush hair back from your face as he leans back and watches your face. Opening your own eyes, you find yourself flushing at his attention. Biting your lip you try to pull him closer as Dean's hand ghosts over your ass. Your lips touch as Dean's palm lands heavier on your ass, making you yelp into Sam's mouth.

"Dirty girl, indeed," you hear the gravely response behind you.

Reluctantly you pull away from Sam's mouth to look over your shoulder. "Don't you have something else to do?"

Dean stares hard at you, an almost sinister smile finding its way across his face as his hand tightens on your ass. "I think I ought to stick around," he insists as his fingers slide through your wetness, teasing you.

"Suit yourself," you mumble before grabbing a handful of Sam's shirt and drag his mouth back to yours. His hand finds its way into your hair, tightening around the stands, dragging you with him. He looms over you and the table, almost bending you backwards, making you rise on your toes to reach his mouth as Dean anchors your hips to the table's edge. Looking for someway to climb, your foot finds a chair only to have it skitter backwards into a bookshelf when you try to put your weight on it.

"Eager much?" Dean asks as you feel Sam's hands hook under your arms, and drag your body across the table. You hear papers flutter and notebooks hit the floor. "What about your precious research?" you tease as Sam deposits you on your back on the table.

Smirking at you, he pulls your bra from your body as you see Dean move around the table, his hand combing through your hair. "Most of its on the floor now," he mumbles against your neck. Arching your head back, you curl your legs so your knees pressed to Sam's hips, drawing his fully clothed form between your legs. You moan softly at the feel of his shirt against your hardened nipples, buttons glancing off your sensitive peaks.

Dragging his teeth over your skin, Sam moves down over your shoulders, leaving small little bites that make you hiss with each pinch.

You feel a hand still gliding through your hair, fingers gently caressing your ear, making you turn to look over at Dean. Leaving one hand in Sam's hair, your other lands palm up on the table, close to Dean's hip. He smiles as he twines his fingers with yours, drawing the back of your hand slowly up his chest to his mouth. Mind numbingly slow, he lays soft kisses to each finger tip, making your head spin faster. Your eyes fall closed as Sam's hot mouth finds your nipple, his rough tongue swirling around it.

"Oh fuck," you curse as your back arches.

"You can almost get her to cum that way," Dean encourages his brother.

Sam hums against your sensitive skin, making your legs flex and contract around him as his teeth score your skin. "Sam," you mutter.

You feel Dean drawing one of your fingers into your mouth, and your body spins out of control. Grabbing Sam's wrist, you guide his calloused gun hand up to brush against the other nipple. Pinching it between his thumb and finger, the hot liquid feeling in your belly spreads suddenly through your body, making you cry out loud at the overwhelming sensations of their mouths on your skin. Your back tightens, your head tilts back and you hand around Sam's wrist grips him tighter as you shudder through your second orgasm.

This certainly wasn't what you expected when you send those dirty texts to Dean this morning. "Or I guess **you **can get her to cum that way," Dean says, his voice almost in awe, his breath skitting over your wet finger.

Licking your dry lips, you suck the bottom one between your teeth as you catch your breath. You wiggle under Sam's weight, his chin resting in the valley between your breasts, his hands skimming over your sides. Hooking your feet on the back of his thighs, you hold him tight to you as your hips press up. Hearing him groan softly, you slowly open your eyes, watching the hunger that spread across his face.

You sit up, pushing at him shoulders, shoulders that wouldn't quit, your eyes never leaving his. Dean reluctantly lets go of your hand as you push at Sam's shirt, divesting him of it. Your fingers play over his warm skin, mapping every groove. As your fingers found those two lines that lead to the fly of his jeans, your smile widens. The front of his pants are dark, not from him, but from your own juices. You had soaked him. And you were not the least bit sorry as you push his jeans and shorts to his knees.

You watch his face closely as your hand wrapped around him, hot in your palm. His eyes fall shut as his hips hitch forward slightly at your strokes, your name escaping on the next breath from between his lips. Dean presses a kiss to your shoulder, making you look at him, his own eyes dark. Giving him his own smile, you kiss his forehead before guiding his lips to yours. You stifle a soft sigh as his tongue breaches your lips, your hand around Sam tightening. Leaning back on your elbow, you line Sam's cock up to your pussy, teasing yourself with just the head, gliding him through your copious amount of slick. He groans as you settle him at your entrance. Unable to hold back, he pushes into you with one fluid motion, burying himself deep. You grasp loudly into Dean's mouth at the feel of Sam reaching places that Dean hadn't with you leaned over the table. Your legs tighten around Sam's hips as he pushes just a little harder, relishing the feel of you tight around him. Settling one hand on your hip, the other on the table, Sam draws back a small amount before pushing back. You growl against Dean's lips, his teeth nipping at your lip. "Show Sammy what you can do with that pussy of yours." he encourages.

"My pleasure," you say wickedly against his mouth, your hand finding its way to Samm's ass as he begins to rut into you harder, faster. You feel yourself ripple around him, this angle making him press deeper in you. Hooking your leg over his elbow, you mewling at the stretch of your tendons and the delightful shivers he is sending through your body as he hits just the right spots with each stroke.

"That's it, big boy," you mutter, his body tight to yours as you both aggressively fuck each other, your hips rolling in perfect time with his. You can hear the wet sounds of your coupling, making you clench at him. Dean wasn't exactly a gentle lover, but this is something different. This was a whole level of raw with Sammy. Maybe it was because it was your first time together, along with the added level of naughtiness that forbidden fruit held. With a whimper, your hand scratches at his back, drawing blood as his thrusts became shorter, keeping himself as deep as possible in you, his hand holding you in place as he savagely fucked you.

"Atta girl," Dean says, his hand wedging itself between you and Sam, his touch surprisingly sure considering how close his hand was straying to his own brother's dick, making you half wonder if this wasn't the first time they shared a woman. Your body tightens around Sam at the thought that you weren't the first woman in this spot and with a single stroke of Dean's finger against your clit, you keened loudly. Dean's name tumbling from your lips first, followed closely by Sam's as you felt his hips stutter above you. Your body turns into molten lava at their strokes. Your hand gripping tightly to Sam as he sandwiches Dean's hands between your bodies as his hips jerked tight to yours. Your hand wraps around Dean's wrist, tugging on it, silently begging him to stop touching your overly sensitive bundle of nerves as she trembled below Sam. The two of you slumped into a sweaty ball as Dean hummed his approval, kissing your forehead and ruffling Samm's hair before wandering out of the room.


	9. Repeat and Repent (SamReader)

Repent and Repeat

Summary:Sam is your priest and during confession you admit to breaking your purity pledge. Sam gets jealous and makes you work for your absolution. Priest!AU.

You close the door behind you and sit on the red velvet bench. This isn't your first time in confession. You've been confessing since you have been old enough to sin, and you were an early bloomer. But you still get nervous every time you're in this sacred space.

Your priest is well versed in your past sins. You were shy at first. It is awkward admitting your array of impure thoughts to a man of God. But Father Winchester insists the path to heaven is paved with honesty.

He knows all of your darkest thoughts, almost all. There are some you keep to yourself. They are too shameful to admit, even to yourself. But no matter what, Father Winchester always absolves you. He always forgives you.

The partition slides open and you can see the outline of your priest's strong jaw through the aperture. Against your will, the impure thoughts flood you in waves.

"Hi, Sam," you say in a low voice.

If you could see Sam's face, you would see him smile at your greeting. "Y/N, we've been over this. When you confess, you must call me Father. Save the familiarities for bake sales and canned food drives."

"I'm sorry. Shall I add this to my list of sins?" you tease the strict man.

"No, I think I can let this slide just this once. But I think we should start over, don't you?"

"Sure thing… Father," you all but purr. You clear your throat for dramatic effect. "Bless me Father for I have sinned. It has been three months since my last confession."

When you fail to continue, Sam prompts you forward. "What do you need to confess, child?"

"Well, as I mentioned, it has been a while since my last confession. A lot can happen in a few months. I'm not sure where to start."

"Start at the beginning."

"I broke a vow. A couple years ago, I signed one of those purity pledges that they hand out to the unmarried parishioners. But recently, I was tempted by the devil and broke that oath."

"The Devil tempted you?" Sam voice is harder than you expected. He is usually so forgiving and accepting of his congregation's shortcomings. But he sounds angry with you.

"Well, who else would it be?"

"You cannot blame the Devil for your every failing. Who was the boy?" Sam presses you for more information than is necessary.

You don't want to rat out a fellow sinner. He is a member of this church and should confess his sin on his own. "I-I don't see why I need to-"

"I need to know everything. To be forgiven, you need to tell me everything."

"Everything?" you ask with hesitation.

"Everything." Sam takes a deep breath. "Tell me what he did to you," he urges you.

"We had sex… twice," you respond with guilt.

"You must be more specific… if you want reconciliation." Sam pushes you more than he pushes the rest of his flock. He expects more from you. He can't help himself from wanting to know the details of your sin.

"I'm not sure what you want me to say. We were at his apartment. He made me dinner. Then he told me he was still hungry. The next thing I know, he has me laid out on his kitchen table with my skirt pushed up around my hips. His tongue must have been controlled by the Devil. No other creature could ever make me submit to sin so easily. I wanted to beg him to stop but instead I opened my legs and let him devour me. I actually gripped his hair and pulled him closer to me. I used the lord's name in vain as his tongue made me feel things that should only be felt in the confines of marriage."

"Did he make you feel good?" Sam's voice is lower than the last time he spoke.

"Too good. I was blinded by lust. After I got a taste of ecstasy, I needed more. I was creature of lust and gluttony. I was never fully sated."

"Did it end there, child?" There is a mix of anger and hope in Sam's voice.

"No, Father. I didn't stop him when he pulled me to the edge of the table. I didn't stop him when he penetrated me and broke my innocence." You say with shame but also hints of arousal. The memory is kindling a burn in your lower belly.

"Was there blood? Did it hurt?" Sam asks through gritted teeth.

"There was a little blood. He told me he liked knowing he was my first."

For a brief moment, you think you heard an angry growl coming from Sam's cubicle. But that is not likely. You chalk the sound up to a loud air conditioning unit.

"It did hurt, but only for a moment. He made it feel good. He used his fingers to ease the pain. He showed me what buttons to press and where to rub myself to get the same feeling on my own. He taught me how to touch myself. I – I didn't know I could make myself feel like that. I haven't been able to stop since. That is my next sin, Father. I know masturbation is abhorrent to God. I know God is always watching. But no matter how hard I try, I can't keep my fingers dry." Your breath is getting heavier. You feel a familiar throb in your core as you wait for Sam's response.

You think of how often you have gotten yourself off since your date and start squirming in your seat. The anticipation of hearing Sam's deep voice makes your eager fingers twitch into action.

"God is watching. But, so am I. Are you touching yourself right now?" Sam asks in a threatening tone. He can see your vague outline through the screen and it won't stop squirming. He adjusts his tightening pants as he waits for your answer.

"No, Father!" you lie.

"You sure about that. I can see you through the grated partition. Lying is a sin, child. So do not waste your opportunity to repent. You are here to confess. So, confess." Sam's voice is full of demand.

You only whimper as a response. Your palm presses against your clit as you scissor two fingers inside yourself.

Those little sounds cause Sam to palm himself through his slacks. "Confess!" He growls at you.

"Yes! Yes! Sam… Father! I – I can't stop myself! I'm sorry!" Your shaky breaths tell Sam you are anything but apologetic right now. "I was having impure thoughts again. I have them every Sunday… every time I hear your voice," you confess in a near whisper.

Sam doesn't say a word. You know you crossed a line. He is your priest. You may be weak enough to give into your lustful temptations but he is a true man of God. He will be disgusted by your propensity toward sin.

"Father?" You whisper when Sam fails to give you your absolution or even respond at all.

All of the sudden, the door to your confessional is torn open. Your heaving priest stands in the doorway. Your cheeks flush red as you have been caught with your hand up your dress. You look to the floor. The anger in his eyes scares you.

You go to pull your hand out of your panties but his voice stops you.

"Don't."

You have never heard his voice so low.

You expected him to drag you out of your little cubicle and publicly shame you for your wickedness. It is what you deserve. But all he does is step into the confined space and close the door behind him. It is a tight fit, he is a large man.

Your mixing body heats warm the small space. He simply stands there and stares at the hand in your panties. "Show me what he taught you," Sam instructs through the lump in his throat.

You stare at him with wide eyes. The humiliation you feel for being exposed to your priest is overrode by your fingers' instinctive reaction. You rub yourself as instructed. He watches your light pink panties turn a shade darker as they become soaked with your arousal.

Sam's resistance has hit it's breaking point. "On your feet, whore," he commands.

You stand up in an instant. Due to the limited space, your chest presses up against his. "Please, Sam. I'm sorry. I am so-"

His firm palm lands over your mouth to shut you up. "Need I remind you again? That is 'Father' to you, child."

Sam uses his free hand to grip your wrist. His grip is bruising and forceful even though you put up no resistance. He brings your wet fingers to his lips. He drags his flat tongue across your digits at an agonizing pace, never once breaking eye contact. Your fingers slip into his mouth and he sucks on them until your wetness is cleared away.

You whine and press your body closer to his. Sam pulls your fingers off his lips. You try guiding his hand into your panties but Sam pulls away. He takes the hand off your mouth and slaps you across the cheek. He grabs your chin and forces you to look at him.

"You have not earned my favour. You lost your chance to beg for forgiveness. Now, you must accept your punishment without question. If you are to gain my absolution, you have to be a good girl." Sam puts his hand in your hair and pulls your head back. "You must atone for being a needy little slut." His lips lower to bite down over your neck.

You moan with approval but that greedy sound earns you sharp tug to your hair. His teeth almost piece your skin. Sam puts his hand back over your mouth as you cry out in pain.

He trades places with you. He then sits on the velvet bench. "Repent," he demands as he leans back against the wall.

You bite your lip and fall to your knees between his long legs. You run your hands up his thighs. You can see a sizable bulge under his fabric and your mouth waters.

You reach to undo his pants but he slaps your hands away. He puts his hand back in your hair and yanks you to your feet. You wince under his hold, but that only make him hold you tighter.

He pulls the thin straps of your dress off your shoulders. In one jarring movement, he pulls your loose dress down your body until it pools at your feet. You aren't wearing a bra, so your nipple peak for him instantly.

"What kind of indigent whore doesn't wear panties to church?" Sam asks with a breathy growl.

You look at him with confusion for a moment. You look down. You are wearing panties. But before you can ask if he needs glasses, Sam's strong fingers rip your panties in half. The shredded material falls off your body. He takes the soaked cotton and shoves it into his pocket for later.

"Look at you. You were completely bare under your dress," Sam lies. "You're going to make my pews wet. I should have you clean up your mess. I should have you on your knees licking up the puddles you leave on your seat. I should have you lick up the juices your needy cunt leaves behind," His hand shoots forward and cups your mound. "You want to lick my wood clean?"

Despite his serious tone, you can't help but giggle at his innuendo. But that proved to be the wrong response. Sam secures his palm back across your mouth before he pinches your clit. Your yelp of pain is muffled by his hand. You cannot speak so you apologize with your pleading eyes.

"I forgive your momentary insolence," Sam concedes when he sees your eyes water.

His finger drags through your folds. His gentle touch mimics his soft words. He messages you with lazy effort as he feels just how wet you are for him. You put your hand on his shoulder to keep yourself steady. Once you've succumbed to his touch and calmed down, he takes the hand off your mouth. He wants to hear your pretty sounds.

"Is this what you want?" His thick finger circles your entrance but refuses to slip inside.

"Yes, Father!" You cry as your rock your hips against his hand. You are trying and failing to get him inside your throbbing hole. You put your foot on the bench beside him and expose your wet pussy. You're hoping he'll see your swollen clit and know how bad you need it.

You then squeal with surprise as Sam knocks your foot off the bench. He pulls you down so you are bent over his knee.

"Do not be greedy, child!" He lands a hard slap over your ass. "You are lucky there isn't enough space in here for me to spread you out and give you my belt," Sam informs you. You whimper at the thought of receiving your lashings. You wiggle your butt and silently beg for more. "But that wouldn't be a true punishment, would it? You'd like it." Sam chides as he spanks you again. The resounding crack of flesh against flesh echoes off the thin walls of the confessional.

You finally realize where you are. Anyone could hear you. There are still parishioners in the church. The service just ended and people are still lingering about. Plus, there is a women's church group meeting starting soon. Those women are nosey and judgmental. If they hear strange sounds coming from the confessional, they are sure to investigate.

You look up at Sam over your shoulder. He seems unfazed at the idea that someone may hear you. But that thought scares you to death. You will forever be known as the whore who corrupted your small town's favourite priest. You will be marked as a tramp and exiled from every church and town gathering.

Sam kneads you welted ass until he notices you staring at him with fear in your eyes. "What is wrong, child?" He asks as though he had not just spanked you in a confessional. He sounds every bit the concerned and caring priest you know.

You want to tell him what has you scared. But you don't want to upset him further. You don't want him to think you don't want this. You don't want him to stop.

"Are you mad at me for not waiting until marriage? Do you think I am damaged goods?" You admit to a different fear that has been eating away you.

Sam smiles at you. His smile is a strange mix of condescending pity and reassurance. "I remember the day I got you to sign your purity pledge." He hits you again, resuming his other role. You bite your lip to keep yourself quiet. "You should have read the fine print." Two slaps this time. "Your form was different than everyone else's". One more welting spank. You bow your head and bite your cheek in unadulterated pain.

Sam sits you up so you are straddling his lap. He grips your hips and drags you up his thighs until your core is resting over his bulge. He hooks a finger under your chin and forces you to look him in the eyes.

"Your pledge was never to God. It was to me. You signed your virginity over to me. It was mine to take. But now, you gave it away." He slaps his hand down over the fleshy part of your mound. "Now, you owe me your penance!" He informs you in a threatening voice.

Your eyes widen. You didn't actually read the form before you signed it. You signed it without question. You trusted your faith. You did as you were told to do, like good religious girls are supposed to. But an odd thought occurs to you. Even if you knew, you would have still signed it. Even if you read the form properly and realized you were signing your innocence over this deceptive man, you would have still done it.

"I – I thought you weren't allowed to have sex. Priests aren't supposed to-"

Another slap lands across your cheek. It's not hard but it gets your attention. "I don't need a three-holed whore telling me what I can and cannot do. I make the rules. You vowed to be mine. You broke it. You will have to work for my forgiveness."

You feel like arguing. You feel it is unfair to be punished for breaking a vow you didn't knowingly make. But your curious nature stops you. You want to see where this goes.

"Anything, Father," you say as you roll your hips down onto his swelling cock.

"Good girl, you've earned yourself a taste." Sam says as he pushes you off his lap. He spread his legs so you can settle between them. You get on your knees and open his belt.

You pull his heavy cock from his pants and feel your throat close in anticipation. He is big. You only have one other man to compare him to, but you know Sam would be big by anyone's standards. You wrap your hand around the base and your fingertips don't even meet due to his girth. You swallow thickly as nerves take you over.

"You can do it," Sam encourages you. "Take the tip first. I'll let you get used to it before I give you more. I have to warn you though, you will be taking it all. Better get started."

The corners of Sam's mouth curl upward as he sees a glimpse of fear flash in your eyes. That may be the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

You swallow your apprehension and lean forward. You do as you're told. You wrap your lips around his tip and suck the bead of precum off his slit. You let your jaw get used to his girth before sinking down a little further.

You let your tongue flick against the little band of tissue under the tip. Sam's hips jerk upward in response. His cock hits the roof of your mouth and you choke back your gag.

"I knew your little whore mouth would be good at this," Sam says as he catches his breath. "You want more?" He raises an eyebrow at your already full cheeks.

You cannot speak so you nod slightly. The movement causes his tip to drag against the roof of your mouth again but this time you don't feel the need to gag. It kind of tickles.

Sam grips your hair and guides you down his cock. Your finger nails dig into his thighs. You brace yourself for the never-ending intrusion. Only half cock is inside you before you need to tap out. You can feel him slide into your throat. You vision blurs and you can't breathe. He's too big. You need to stop, for now.

He lets you pull off him. A string of saliva connects your lips to his tip as you pull away. You wipe your mouth and look to the floor in shame. It is a different shame than the guilt you felt earlier. It is one of inadequacy. You couldn't take him all in. You weren't good enough for him. Your eyes had been watering from the lack of air but now they are watering from failure. You will never be able to earn his forgiveness.

Sam sees your solemn shift and grips your wrists. He pulls you off the ground and sits you back on his lap. His cock now rests between your stomachs.

"You did well, child. You can take the rest later. A promise is a promise. You will take it all. But, we'll give your jaw a break until then." Sam assures you. When you still refuse to look him in the eye, Sam grips your jaw and squeezes it. "Do not pout. It is unbecoming."

You nod and rid your face of petulance. That seems to please Sam because he lets go of your jaw and puts his hands on your thighs.

"Up," he instructs as he taps your sore bottom.

You raise yourself up and let him position his cock at your entrance. You can feel the tip slip inside you and you already feel too full.

"Down," he instructs next. But you don't move. You don't think you can take all of him inside you. He hardens his glare. "I said, down !" he shouts too loud for comfort. Someone could hear.

Your pussy clenches with fear and you look over your shoulder at the closed door.

Your reaction makes Sam smirk as a wicked idea appears in his mind. "Get yourself down or I'll push you down. I'll make you scream loud enough that everyone in this building will know what your letting me do to you. Everyone will know what a dirty little cockslut you are."

The fear of getting caught by pious onlookers fills you with an inexplicable excitement. The idea of being known as the town scarlet is terrifying. But the added risk of someone overhearing you and finding out how desperate you are for clergy cock makes this all the better. The fear of losing your reputation is only driving closer to destroying it.

You sink down onto Sam's cock and a victorious smile warps his features. Your walls stretch to their limit. You cannot stop a grimace of pain the more of him you take in. Sam kisses your crinkled brows and the pain starts to subside.

"That's it, baby girl. Ride it out." Sam continues to praise and encourage you until your clit is buried in the patch of hair at the base of his cock.

You groan as your walls accommodate his impressive length. He can feel you tighten around him and he twitches inside you. That slight movement makes you crave more. You go to lift yourself up so you can start the flow of friction, but Sam's firm hands hold you in place.

"No. Stay put. You were supposed to be my virgin angel. I was supposed to guide you into true womanhood. I was to be your first. But, you squandered that opportunity. You took that from me. So now, you are nothing but my dirty little cocksleeve. I will use you however and whenever I want. Whores don't get a gentle hand," Sam informs you of the fate you have seal for yourself.

Your eyes widen as you realize the hole you have dug for yourself. You could have been his princess. But now, you are his cum catcher. As you drown in the darkness of his eyes, you wonder if you would have wanted it any other way.

"Oh, you like that?" Sam teases when he sees your lips curl into a smile. You bite your lip to stop your smile from spreading but it's too late. He's seen your wanting. He can feel it as you throb around his cock. "Well, then we are just going to sit here. I'm going to let you sit and think about your new responsibility."

Sam keeps himself buried inside you. He tortures you by staying completely still. He revels in the feel of you squeezing and warming his cock. You drop your forehead to his shoulder in frustration. Seconds feel like minutes and minutes feel like hours.

Your skin is sweaty and your chest heaves. "Please, Father. Have mercy on me," you beg him. You kiss his neck but he is still wearing his collared shirt so there isn't much exposed skin to explore. But that is alright because you always loved seeing him in his clerical collar. He looks so forbidden.

You start nibbling on his ear instead.

"Why should I have mercy on such a lost soul? You have not earned it," Sam denies you once again. He loves hearing you beg and he wants to hear it one more time before he tears you apart.

"Please, Fa-" you stop yourself when you get an idea. It is a very bad idea. But, you go for it any way. You have nothing to lose at this point. "Please, Daddy," you purr.

Sam growls and pulls your head back by your hair. "You naughty whore. Watch your tongue," he warns you.

He is so close to snapping. You know you are already in for a rude fucking so you may as well not shy away now. You want him to unleash it all. "I'm sorry, Daddy. Please, forgive me!" You stick your lip out because you know he hates it when you pout. You try rocking your hips but the hand in your hair tightens.

He pulls up on your hair so you are slightly raised off his cock. "You have no idea the beast you are tempting, child. My dirty slut wants it hard?"

Sam doesn't wait for you to respond before his hips spring off the bench and he slams into you to the hilt again. You weren't expecting such force and you yelp in surprise. You slap a hand over your mouth and pray no one heard you. Sam takes his hand out of your hair. He forces you to uncover your mouth.

"I want to hear you. I want everyone to hear you," he snarls as he pistons his cock into you. You cling to his neck to hold yourself up. Under the jostling force of his thrusts, you would have fallen off had he not had a bruising grip over your hips.

You run your fingers through his hair and pull his head back as you feel a growing tingle in your lower belly. He watches your eyes squeeze shut and your face contort in quiet pleasure. You let out low groans and small whimpers. But otherwise, you bite your lip and strain to keep yourself quiet.

But that is not what Sam wants. He wants you red and embarrassed when you think someone may catch you. In reality, Sam knows the confessionals are sound proof. They are sound proof to ensure discretion and confidentiality. But you don't know that. Sam wants you to think the whole congregation can hear you scream his name.

Sam bounces you on his cock and watches your breasts jiggle for him. He pushes against the hold you have over his hair. He tries to lean forward and catch a pebbled nipple in his mouth. Once you realize what he wants, you loosen your grip and hold his head against your chest.

His lips latch on to the bud and he sucks it between his teeth. His mouth is not gentle. He leaves behind bruises and even breaks the skin with his eager fang-like teeth. His tongue laps up the blood and soothes the overworked area. One hand leaves your hip to knead your neglected breast.

His other hand slides between your bodies to play with your clit. He trusts you to hold yourself up and bounce on your own. Despite the overwhelming stimulation, you meet his challenge. You ride his cock and even pick up a vigorous pace. You want him to be proud of you. You want your absolution.

You can't stop yourself from screaming now. "S-Sam," you groan as you feel yourself getting so close. The tightening in your stomach is too strong to ignore.

"That's it, cherub. Sing for me!" Sam urges you.

You scream as your orgasm rips you apart. Your skin tingles and your every muscle quivers. The coil inside you snaps and you break open. The string of profanities that fall from your lips even has Sam a little surprised. You not only evoke God's name but you scream for Lucifer to never let you free from his seductive clutches.

Sam laughs to himself as you are once again blaming the Devil for your own sin.

As your pussy throbs, Sam hooks his arms under your knees and lifts you both off the bench. He slams you against the side wall. The grated partition bites into the skin on your back but you don't care. You let Sam nail you into the wall at a brutal pace as he chases his end. You're not sure if you had another mini orgasm or the first one just never ended. But your limbs turn to jelly as you take his absolution in stride.

With one final and brutal thrust, Sam spills his holy seed inside of you. You can feel how deep it went. You wished the churched allowed you to be on birth control. You can feel Sam fill your womb and you know no amount of praying will stop him from eventually knocking you up.

Sam uses your dripping hole to work himself through his release. Once finished, he pulls out of you and puts your feet on the ground. Your legs are shaky but you manage to stay standing.

He sits back on the bench and spreads his legs. He doesn't put away his softening cock. He raises an eyebrow up at you.

As if you already speak a silent language, you fall to your knees and take his cock in your mouth. His erection is fading quickly but you need your redemption. You lap your juices off his cock and moan at your own taste. The new and interesting taste drives you forward. You don't stop until his hairs tickle your nose. Your throat is full. You cannot breathe but you have never been filled with so much pride and accomplishment.

You like having him in your throat but he hisses when your tongue starts to overstimulate him. You pull off of him and smile at your own success.

"Pride is a sin. Don't let it go to your head, little one." Sam teases you as he notices the triumph in your eyes.

"I think you've lost the higher ground on lecturing me about sin," you say as you look up at Sam through your lashes.

Sam grips your hair again and puts a hand over your throat. He doesn't squeeze hard, or at least not as hard as you want him to.

"Watch yourself, whore. I was just about to forgive you. But then, you go and open that mouth of yours and ruin it. It's like you want to be on my bad side."

You shrug in response because you can't respond verbally.

"I can see that your contrition was not enough to enact permanent change in your behaviour." Sam releases your throat and pushes you back. You scramble for air and scramble to regain your balance. "Next time, we'll have to try a different tactic. Maybe I was too generous for letting you cum. I shall not make that mistake twice," Sam says mostly to himself rather than to you.

Sam helps you up off the ground. He picks up your discarded dress and drags it up your hips. As he covers your thighs, he admires how his seed is leaking out of you. He drags his finger through the mess and feeds it to you. You moan but know better than to ask for more.

He helps you back into your dress and admires how pristine you look again. All the bruises and bitemarks he left on your body are covered perfectly by your dress. Only your messy hair holds the evidence of what he'd done. Sam turns you around and smoothest down your hair before tying it in a braid.

When he spins you back around, you are the picture of innocence he fell in love with all those years ago. Only now, Sam knows the lingering darkness within you. Only he knows the true impurity of your soul. Only he knows you are covered in his claiming marks and have his seed dripping out of you. Your tainted soul only makes him love you more. You share his depravity. You share his sin.

You walk out of the confessional and look around to make sure no one sees you exiting the same booth. You know it is a useless effort since the whole town probably heard you screaming. But, you check anyway.

When no one is around, you turn back to Sam. "I'll see you next Sunday, Father ." You hold your hand out for him to shake.

Sam takes it but squeezes it tighter than necessary. "About that, I've been thinking. I have decided you will no longer be merely a Sunday Seagull. You soul is in need of more regular contrition. You will come to me every night. I think you could benefit from attending extra services. I am also always available for private counsel."

You think about your busy weekday schedule. Going to church every day will do nothing but interfere with your daily responsibilities. But then you look up into Sam's eyes. You realize seeing him only once a week will never be enough for you anymore.

"See you tomorrow then, Sam." You smile at him and reluctantly pull your hand out of his.

Sam returns your smile. You finally see the warm and kind man you know and love. The fury and fire in his eyes as simmered into a comfortable heat. He loves how easy it was to convince you to come back to him. He wonders if there is anything you won't do for him.

He plans on testing every limit of your devotion.

Sam watches you walk away with an awkward sway in your step. He laughs to himself as he knows you are trying to keep your thighs together so his cum doesn't drip down your legs.

You walk up the aisle and toward the exit. You walk past some other parishioners but keep your head held high. That sight warms Sam's heart. You are not ashamed. You think everyone heard you and yet you walk out of God's house with confidence in your step.

Sam knows he should have told you that no one heard you in the confessional. But, he likes the idea that you are proud of the noises he pulled from you.

You look back once you reach the church steps. Before the door closes, you catch a glimpse of Sam's soft smile. It is a smile you have never seen before. It is a satisfied and blissed out sense of accomplishment. It is genuine and full of hope. And it was all for you.

You will gladly walk to the pits of hell so see that smile again.


	10. open your eyes (DeanReaderSam) (TW)

Open Your Eyes

Summary:Dean was once your lover, your friend, your confidant. Only, he was not ready to retire from hunting but you were. You wanted the apple pie life, children, your own family, the whole nine. When Dean went AWOL after his death, Sam traded his soul again to gain information on Dean's whereabouts. When Sam found Dean, he turns to you, asking you to help him lure Dean back. Of course you agreed. This will be smooth sailing, right? Right.

Relationship:Demon Dean/Reader/Soulless Sam

"Dean! This is not you!" Your hands were tied to the bed. The thick rope cutting into the flesh of your wrists, blood dripping down onto the mattress and you think that you will pass out any minute.

"Oh, this is me, alright?" He chuckled darkly, pacing around the bed, "Never been more me.", dropping one layer of clothing after another in his wake and looked at you with predatory eyes.

You were his prey.

He's going to eat you alive, you could sense it, could feel it in your bones and a trembling rush of anxiety traveled through your veins. Your heart was racing and you tug at your restraints a little harder, hoping that it would somehow loosen up.

Come on!

"Wouldn't do that if I were you, Sweetheart. You'll only be cutting yourself deeper," he sneered roughly, coming closer and you could see his big calloused hand, oh god the hands that were so soft against your skin when he made love to you, stroking away at his hard cock as he strolled over.

He was leaning over you now and breathed against your ear. You could detect a smell of cheap Whiskey, earth and something very Dean. Goosebumps began spreading through your body and a feel of nausea hits you.

"Dean, please. I know you're in there! Please!"

"Aw..Baby, I love it, when you beg. Oh and oops? The old Dean has left the building." He licks a stripe up your cheek and it makes you writhe in desperation.

"Hold still or you'll pass out of blood loss. You could die, even. And honestly, I don't want that," the tip of his nose brushing along the soft shell of your ear "yet." Dean sucked in your earlobe before he bites down on it, making you cry out in pain and arch up your back.

There was a low chuckle and you were definitely sure that this wasn't Dean and certainly not the Dean you know. You somehow hoped that this is a nightmare. One that you desperately want to wake up from.

No, this is not the Dean you used to love, used to care for very much. Dean would not hurt a woman. Well, only if she asks for it. And oh boy did you ask for some spanking when the two of you were still together. Also, for Dean, women always came first, quite literally. There was not a night where he would be satisfied and you weren't. Dean was always the one to put others before him but this Dean right here? A monster, a predator, but not Dean .

"Where's the fun in fucking a corpse, am I right?"

His tongue clicked against his teeth before he licked the side of your face again, as if he wanted to taste you before deciding if he wanted to eat you and then he looks down on you, smirking, his eyes flashing black.

"Fuck you!" You hiss angrily and spat at him, right in his arrogant face. The face that you once loved so much.

There's still some fight in you left and if you're going down, you're going to go down swinging.

You felt Dean's backhand making contact with your face, sending your head flying sideways, the sting biting away at your cheek. There was a piercing ringing in your ear as you look up to him again, the taste of iron strong in your mouth.

"Don't make me shut your mouth, bitch!" He straddled you now, moving up until his thighs are caging your face in, the tip of his dick so close, you could smell the pre-cum that oozed out of his pulsing slit.

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the inevitable and you began to focus. Focusing, on finding a safe place in your mind, far away from here. It won't matter what Dean's doing to you, you will not be broken. Not if you still have the will to live. But do you really?

"Open your eyes!" Dean snarled, as he plied them open with two of his fingers.

"Yeah, that's it, Baby. Look at me and take it. You're going to take it like the whore you are. You've always been a slut for me. For my cock, weren't you, darlin'?"

The terms of endearments that left his lips were the worst. It catapulted you right back to the time when things were good. When Dean was still Dean and he would say them to you, making you feel special and loved. It hurts to hear him using them now.

You pressed your lips together, gritting your teeth, preventing him from shoving his dick into your mouth.

"I said, fucking take it!" With his free hand, Dean pinched your nose, stopping you from breathing and you held your breath.

He chuckled again. "Tick, tock. How long can you do that, huh?" He flashed you a wicked grin "I've got all the time in the world, Honey. Can't say the same about you."

You felt your lungs giving out and if you won't breath now, you'll probably really going to pass out but you tried. Tried to keep it in as long as possible, even if your legs are already trembling and trashing around.

Just when you couldn't hold your breath any more, you open up your mouth, taking a big gulp of air and you tried to do it as quick as possible, nearly already closing your mouth again but that's also when Dean pushes himself into your mouth in one go, sliding his cock in until the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat, making you choke and gag on it and your eyes filled themselves up with tears.

"Good girl," he snickered, moving in and out agonizingly slow, making you feel the burn in your throat, "you bite me once, bitch, I'll fucking rip your lungs out, you hear me?"

You look at him with wide eyes and tears were now rolling off the side of your face.

"Oh, my bad. Of course you can't answer." With each push, he's getting deeper and you feel like passing out. Hell, you wished you would pass out.

"Gotta say, you look real good with my cock in your mouth, Baby girl. Didn't know how much I missed this, until you were standing right in front of me." His hands grabbing the side of your head, holding it steady as he began to increase his pace.

"Fucking. Cock. Slut." Each word was met by a thrust of his hips. So deep, you felt his balls hitting your jaw and his public hair tickling your nose.

"Do you want me to cum in your throat?" One of his hand left your head and traveled behind him and he trailed his fingertips down your body. "Or in here?" Dean cupped your sex harshly, making you jerk your hips.

"Hhm..I think I'm taking your pussy. What do you say, Sweetheart? Would you like that? I'll fill you up so good." He pulled out of your mouth with a laugh.

"Maybe you'll get pregnant. You always wanted that, didn't you? Always wanted a husband, kids, the whole nine." Dean whispered in your ear, his tongue wetting the shell before he plunges his tongue inside and out again. He sucked at your earlobes now, biting painfully at it.

"Always so wet for me too, slicking the way for my cock like a bitch in heat. It always felt like heaven. Not that I've been there." He hovered above you, his tongue licked down your throat and then he reached your tits, sucking in a nipple and rolling the other one between his rough fingers. Then he bites down on it, making you yelp up in another fit of pain.

"Dean! Stop it!" You cry out, even though you know that you can't win. Wouldn't win. Either way this night will end, there won't be any winners.

"Shut your fucking mouth, bitch!" Dean leaned down and grabbed the nearest thing he found on the floor, which happens to be one of his socks, and stuffed them into your mouth, making you trash around with your feet and the sudden movement made the ropes cut into your wrists a little deeper.

Fuck. You're really going to die, won't you? He's going to kill you once he's done with you. The thought alone could make you give up, if there wasn't someone else that was hopefully on his way here.

Sam. Oh god, Sammy.

Sam was the one who sent you after Dean. He asked you for a favor, thinking that Dean probably still loves you, even in his demon form. Well, joke's on him, right?

Before you got captured by Dean, you were able to send out a last text and now you could only hope that Sam was coming. You're holding onto it like a lifeline, a last straw that keeps you afloat in this dark water.

Dean knelt in between your thighs, his calloused fingers touching your pussy, massaging your clit and you almost thought that it felt alright. But before you could even blink, Dean shoved two fingers into you, scissoring you open for him. You flinch at the pain and cry out but your yell for help were muffled by Dean's sock.

"Aw shucks, thought you'd at last be wetter for me, darlin'," he starts to rub against your bud with his thumb while he fucks you slowly with two thick fingers.

And fuck, now it really started to feel good and you began to cry at how your body is betraying you. Not now. Not like this.

"The old Dean would care about you, wouldn't he? He would make sure you always came first. Remember?" He chuckled darkly. "But hey, I tried and looky, you're indeed wet, Baby. Tell me, do I turn you on? Kinky bitch, ain't ya? Getting turned on by me raping you?" He took out his fingers and wrapped them around the base of his cock, slicking it up with the little juice you provided, before he rubbed his dick against the entrance of your pussy.

Nononono!

"Well, I'm not the old Dean but hey, I gave you something, didn't I? You're so wet now, Baby!" He grinned, flashing his eyes black again and pushing himself into you in one hard stroke, making you feel full in an instant.

Even though Dean slicked his dick and made you wet, it still felt like this thick cock is ripping you open. You cried out in pain and closed your eyes, your tears began streaming down like a waterfall.

"So fucking tight," He panted, pulling himself out of you, only leaving in the tip of his cock in you before he slammed home again, hard. Over and over. "gonna make you love it." The screams you let out were muffled by the sock in your mouth.

Dean's pulled out after a while, his hands gripping tight around your thighs and then he turned you around, making you cross your arms in the front, the ropes were tighter now, cutting deeper into your flesh.

"You always loved it rough, didn't you?" He brought his hands down, smacking your ass cheeks with both hands. He could watch the blood seeping to the surface in the shape of his hands and he couldn't help but grin to himself as he admired his work.

"On your knees!" He hissed, pulling you up by your hips and you obliged, pushing your ass up high and burying your face deep into the cheap motel mattress, taking in the smell of Dean's musk that filled your nostrils.

"Good girl. Always so responsive, ain't ya?" Dean pushed himself back into your pussy and sets a fast pace right from the start. Both his hands came down on your ass again, making you bite down into the sock in your mouth. "Ah, Baby girl, I wish I could hear you talk dirty to me, hear you scream my name."

"Please." You whine behind your makeshift gag and hoped that he hears you.

"What's that? You want me to take out your gag, Sweetheart?"

You nod frantically.

"You wish."

Dean chuckled but then you felt him withdraw himself off you and your heart began to fill itself with hope again.

His hands gripped tight around a blade and when he flashes it at you, you could see that it was the infamous First Blade and suddenly, all the life drained out of you.

"Dean." You sobbed incoherently behind the gag.

But Dean didn't listen, he reached around, cutting the ropes off your wrists and pulled your arms back, securing it at your back with one of his strong hand. He bent down a little, kissing a path around the nape of your neck before he whispers into your ear. "Really don't want you to pass out now. The fun's just started."

He trailed the blade over your back, digging in just enough but not too hard, leaving your skin intact. Dean really is the master with the blade, turning and twisting it skillfully in his hands.

"The blade's hungry, Y/N."

He pressed the handle against your pussy, pushing it in once and slicks it up with your juice before he moves it in a straight line towards your ass, leaving a wet trail behind.

"So fucking wet, Honey. Is this because of me?"

You lowered your head in shame. You couldn't help how your body reacts to Dean and you got more and more turned on when his dick hit the right spot when he was fucking you minutes ago.

"No lube here but since your pussy provides enough slick —"

He didn't even finish his sentence when he shoved the handle of the blade in your ass, twisting and turning it around harshly, making you scream. You arched your back and writhed in his hold but there was no place for you to go.

"Hold still, Baby. You'll love it." He damn cooed.

You couldn't see his face but you were sure that he was smiling.

"Here we go." Dean lined himself up at your pussy entrance and thrusts his hips forward, filling you up to the hilt and with the blade still fucking in and out of your ass, you never felt so full before in your life.

Fuckfuckfuck no!

Dean knew what effect it had on you, having both holes filled. He knew exactly, that if he hits the right spots, he'll make you come so incredibly hard, it'll make you see stars.

"Fucking hell, feels so fucking tight with that blade in your ass, Baby girl. You like this, huh? Like me and Blady here fucking you?" He sneered and of course he didn't expect an answer from you. "Turn your head over here. Look at me!"

You did, tilting your head to look at him over your shoulders and you were met by black eyes, staring right into your soul. Immediately, you closed your eyes, not wanting to look at the man because he's not the man who you used to love.

"Open your eyes. I wanna see you." Dean twisted the handle just right, pressing down on it until he reaches your sweet spot and then he shifts his legs, pushing you a little lower so he could hit the other spot with his cock and you were so far gone.

No! Stop!

Your eyes grew wide, your pupils blowing darkly as you look at him with a shocked expression on your face when your orgasm surprised you. Your legs trembled and your insides clenched around the blade and his cock, holding them captive in the depths of your sex.

"Ahh, here we go. Good girl."

Dean might have said something but you didn't hear him. Your whole body went numb as you try to still your legs, that were still shaking from the aftermath of the wave of bliss that washed over you.

"Dean! Put that down!"

Sam! Sammy!

Dean didn't move, nor did he put the blade down. He just casually looked over his shoulders, and snickered at his brother.

"Oh, hey Sammy! Glad you could make it!" He still lazily thrusts into you, as he held small talk with Sam and you whimper softly into the mattress.

"Let her go!" Sam's voice was firm and somehow you hoped that actions will follow after his words. You hoped, that he'll get you out of your misery.

"Oh, Sammy. Traded your soul, haven't you?" Dean let out a sigh and removed the blade from your ass, replacing it with two thick fingers and began to feel you up from the inside with no care in the world.

"H-how do you know?" Sam lowered his gun as he looked at Dean and you, mesmerized.

"Words on the street's that Abaddon's keeping it under locks. How about you join us and then we'll go get your soul back?"

Is Dean really bargaining with Sam? You thought you didn't hear him right.

Sam! Don't listen to him. Is what you wanted to say but you couldn't. The words won't come out.

"Come here." Dean beckoned Sam over, showing him your ripe raw ass, marked with the shape of his fingerprints.

"Take a look. You see that, Sam? She's so raw and sensitive here." He slapped down again, making you buckle up into his hand. "Fucking tight, too. And she loves to be stuffed full. Don't you, Sweetheart?" Dean brought another hand down on you and you yelp up in pain. Or was it pained pleasure? You just don't know anymore.

This time though, there's something different. He massaged his big palms against your burning cheeks, soothing away the pain that seeps through your veins, as if he's very proud of you. "Taking it so good, Baby girl." He damn fucking purred and it makes your blood freeze.

Dean looked over to Sam and saw him staring at his act in awe.

"See that, Sammy? She's such a good slut for me. For us, if you would just let her. Join me, you won't regret it. What do you say?"

Sam swallowed hard as he strolled closer to the bed.

"Don't you want to feel her?" Dean rolled his hip agonizingly slow against you, pushing himself inside deeper with each thrust, making you whimper through the gag in your mouth.

No, Sammy. Don't.

"Yes." Sam puffed out and maybe it was a chuckle that you heard. "Can I?"

Damnit!

Shortly after, you felt Sam's hands caressing your globes, massaging it before he too, slapped down on both of them.

*smack smack*

You jolted up into his hands at the pain and you were sure that it won't take long until blood will seep through your thick skin.

Sam's hands were much bigger but softer than Dean's, the palm of his hand almost covers your whole ass cheek as he repeated his actions.

*smack smack*

"Feel her in here." Dean pulled his fingers out of your ass and they were quickly replaced by Sam's digits.

The brothers talking over your head as if you don't exist.

Sam's fingers were longer than his brothers and damn if they didn't hit you in the right places as he scissors and twists his digits inside of you before he traced them along your inner walls in search for the right spot.

"Fuck, so tight." Sam started to grin when he felt your hole closing in around his digits as you cramped down in pain. You were wrapped around both brothers, holding them captive in the depths of you. "I can almost feel you, Dean." He chuckled and it makes you wonder if he had traded in his mind too.

"Atta boy." Dean praised his brother. "Push down harder, Sammy. Feel my cock through the thin wall." Dean encouraged Sam and Sam followed his lead, pushing down, feeling his brothers hard cock on the other side of the thin wall and it almost made you come then and there.

Fuck. It felt good, almost too good, you're not going to lie and you bury your face deeper in the mattress, hiding the blush on your cheeks and the damn excitement in your eyes in shame.

While you were down, head buried in the sheets of the cheap mattress, the end of the sock in your mouth got caught on a button of the sheets and you managed to push the rest out with your tongue. You did it slowly, careful to not raise any suspicions.

Your mouth felt awfully dry but you tried your best not to let the brothers know your advantage. When Sam twists his fingers inside of your ass harshly, pushing further down, you couldn't help but yelp up at the pained pleasure it brought and you bit down on your bottom lip as soon as you realized your outburst.

"Aww, Baby girl, you got rid of your gag?" Dean tsked you. And it kind of left you wondering why he's not mad.

"It doesn't matter, I have something better for ya." He chuckled evilly before his hand let go of your arms and instead grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking you up towards him, making you arch your back and cry out in pain.

"Sammy, why don't you stuff her mouth with your cock, huh?" Dean lowered his face to your head and he whispered it into your ear but it was loud enough for Sam to catch on. "Would be a shame to waste that pretty mouth on a gag." Dean sucked in your earlobe before he licked a trail down your throat.

You could feel Sam's finger pulling out of your ass, as he began to shuffle around, and you couldn't help but whimper at the loss.

Sam dropped his clothing on the way to the front and you could hear the fabric of his heavy jacket with his gun in it hitting the floor.

If only you could reach that damn gun!

"On all fours, Sweetheart." Dean commanded and pulls you up by the hair that was still clutched in his fists. You winced at the pain and complied. There was really no way to fight him. Not now.

Dean shifted you so your hands were almost on the edge of the bed and Sam was standing right in front of you, staring down at you and you looked up, looking him dead in the eyes.

Somehow, you hoped that you could catch a glimpse of something, fucking anything, in his eyes, something that tells you that he's still here, still with you, but there was nothing. His eyes were blank, emotionless. Soulless.

If you had known this before you agreed to lure Dean in..

Sam's hard cock nudging at your mouth as he smeared pre cum on your lips, waiting for you to open up for him, to take him in, but you just pressed your lips together painfully hard, almost biting your own lips off with your teeth.

"Sammy!" Dean interrupted. "Give her something to drink first. Her mouth's probably fucking dry. Do I really need to tell you everything?!" Dean snarled from behind. "Fucking amateur without your soul, buddy."

Sam grabbed the bottle of water from the nightstand, held out the bottle neck to your mouth and tips it lightly. You welcomed the liquid and gulped it down eagerly. You didn't even realize how dry your mouth was until the delicious liquid hit your tongue.

"There ya go, Y/N." Sam's voice was soft, almost as if he felt sorry for you but you knew that he didn't remotely feel that way. He set the bottle back on the stand next to the bed before he stood back in front of you, his dick pointing at your mouth again.

"Open up for Sammy, Baby." Dean cooed and you knew that it wasn't a plea but a hidden command and you parted your lips. Sam saw his opportunity, plunging in his dick into your wet mouth in one swift go. "Good girl, taking it like the cock slut you are." Dean praised you and the praise shouldn't turn you on that much, but sadly, it did.

You knew this was wrong. You knew that the praises that came out of his mouth shouldn't turn you on so much but it fucking did and you can't help it. You shut your eyes in shame.

Sam was fucking your mouth in a steady rhythm, the head of his dick tickles the back of your throat with every thrust of his hips and you knew that he was holding himself back. You were sure that no one could ever take the whole of Sam. He's so fucking huge and you were actually glad that he has mercy on you. For now.

Sam's big hands gripped tight around your face, holding it still while he began to fuck your face more roughly. "Fuck this feels so good! Open your eyes, Y/N! Look at me!"

And you did. You looked up at Sam with tears stained eyes. You wished, oh god how you wished that he would come to his senses.

"Good girl!" The praise rolls off his tongue like a melody you were starved to hear. "Tongue out, breath through your nose." Sam instructed and his voice was kind of soothing and you wanted to wrap yourself in the false sense of comfort, never to wake up again.

But Sam's not having any of it. He increased his pace, fucking you in earnest while sweat began to bead on his forehead. Little droplets that were dripping down his cheeks and chin, until they drop down onto you.

You've been sloshing between the brothers as their bodies began to sync, sending pain but also pleasure, a thing you didn't want to admit, through your veins.

Sam let go of your head, as he pushed himself further in, making you gag on his too big cock, his hands travel down your back, big palms kneading at your flesh, nails digging into all the right places until they rested on your ass. He spread your globes for Dean, as he watches his brothers cock fuck in and out of your pussy.

Dean spat into the crack that was now wide open for him, his fingers gliding through the saliva as he worked his way into your puckered entrance again, making your moan around Sam's throbbing cock.

"How is she, lil bro?"

"Fucking perfect."

"Do you want to sink your dick in her pussy? Promise ya, it's even better than her mouth." Dean panted hard. "What do you think, Sweetheart. Ready to take both of us?" He spanked your ass, laughing.

"Fuck, Dean. C-can I?" Sam couldn't believe his luck.

"Sure thing. We're brothers, right? Brothers share. 'Sides, can't keep that perfect cunt to myself, Sammy."

You look up to see a bright smile on Sam's face and that's when you knew that you've lost your last straw of hope.

Dean brought both his hands down on your ass, making you buckle up at the pain you feel and you moaned around Sam's dick.

"Fuck, do that again, Dean."

Dean laughed at Sam's demand before he brought his hands down again.

*Smack*

"Feels fucking perfect."

"Then wait for it, Sammy." Dean brought his hands down on your bottom one last time before he pulled out of you. "Get your cock out, we're going to fuck Y/N into next week." Dean told Sam and he complied, taking out his cock and stroking it lazily in front of your face, waiting for his brother's instructions like an obedient child.

"Just sit back and watch." Dean instructed Sam and waves him off the bed. He put his blade away and lifts you up like you weight nothing and positions himself under you, making you sit on top of him, facing Sam who was now at the end of the bed.

"Let's show Sam here the ropes, Baby girl." Dean lifted you up with one hand, with the other, he positions his dick at your ass and slowly pushes you down on him, making you yelp at the intrusion.

"Oh, fuckfuckfuck." You held your breath as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

"Looks so good, Dean." You opened up your eyes again at Sam's comment and saw, how Sammy fists his cock, watching you and Dean.

"Feels as good as it looks, Sammy." Dean's hand guiding you up and down his thick shaft. "Does it feel good for you too, darlin'."

You closed your eyes, as tears of shame streamed down your cheeks because you couldn't lie. It felt damn good.

"Open your eyes, Y/N. I wanna see you looking at me. Does Dean fuck you good? Damn! What I would give to have that piece of ass to myself."

You didn't know that Sam could talk dirty, but the things he said and how he said it, with his deep growling voice, sent shivers down your spine.

"Sam, do me a favor? C'mere and lick her." Dean panted as he thrusts his hips up to meet yours.

"C-can I?" Sammy sounded like he won the jackpot.

"Do it, lick her good, make her cum on my cock."

Sam moves closer with a big smile on his face as he lowered his head to the level of your sex. Dean still lazily moved in and out of you but he slowed down his pace so that Sam could lick you to ecstasy.

You jerked your hips up as Sam's tongue touched your clit. He smooth texture of it, sending jolts of pleasure through your body, making you keen and writhe for him. And when he molded his lips to your sex, sucking at your bud and hummed in pleasure, you felt another wave of orgasm ready to be rolling over you.

"Fuck. Ah!" You bit down on your lips as your legs began to tremble and you clamped your insides, making Dean grunt behind you as your ass squeezes around his cock.

"Great job, Sammy. Good boy." Dean praised his brother before licking a patch below your ear.

"What do you think, honey, ready to take both of us? Wanna give Sammy something too. He came all the way here." Dean whispered in your ear and Sam was looking at you with big puppy eyes.

They wouldn't take no for an answer anyway, would they?

You didn't see Dean but if you would, you would have seen that he nodded at Sam silently and Sam began to smirk before he positioned himself between your and Dean's thighs, his throbbing cock poking at the entrance of your pussy.

Slowly, he pushed in, groaning audibly at how good it felt when your pussy swallowed his thick dick, inch by inch. Sam leaned over you can Dean when he was sheathed in your warmth and slowly, they began to thrust in and out of you in tandem.

You felt full. So fucking full and it was a good feeling, you're not going to lie. Still you were ashamed of yourself and you just kinda of hoped that it'll all be over soon.

Dean began to whisper dirty promises into your ear, praising you for what you're worth, while Sam kissed your mouth, his tongue plunging in and out to the same rhythm as his cock.

When they moved faster, you thought that you're going to pass out, and then Dean's hand found your clit, rubbing at it as he bites down on your shoulder, marking you up.

"I'm going to cum in your ass. Filling you up, you'll feel me dripping out of you for days." He said, sinking his fangs deeper into your broken skin and sucking at the blood that seeped out of the wound before he buckled up his hips, pushing you towards Sam and you felt Sam follow his brother's lead, biting into your lip as he too, released himself into you.

You were squeezed in between the bodies of the brothers and you had trouble breathing but as soon as he came down from his high, Sam rolled off you onto his back, his chest heaving with every breath he took.

Dean rolled over from under you and he turned over to his side, his face inches from yours as he watched you slowly drifting off to sleep or was it unconsciousness, you didn't know because your head felt light and you want to disappear into the darkness of your mind.

"What are you going to do with her?" Sam asked curiously.

"I don't know. Either I kill her or I keep her." He replied dryly, getting up and walked over to the tiny fridge and took out two bottles of beer, throwing one at Sam.

"Maybe we could keep her as our pet?" Sam asked, trailing his eyes over your used body.

Dean chuckled at the thought. "Yeah. I mean, why not. She's a good fuck, isn't she?"


	11. Keeper (DeanReader)

Keeper

Summary:Dean wants the reader and is very jealous of her close relationship with Sam.

'Hey, you okay?' Sam's voice distracted you from where you were leaning on the kitchen side, your head in your hands as you tried to force the nausea away. You nodded into your palms, feeling his reassuring hand on your lower back. 'Cramps?'

'Lil' bit.' You murmured in reply. It was that time of the month, which for an omega, truly sucked. You knew if you didn't get back to the bunker soon, you'd have to suffer this for the entirety of the hunt, and although Sam was a beta, and in no way affected by your heat, being stuck in the car travelling was not an exciting prospect.

'Damn.' Sam's hand disappeared, and you heard him move away, rifling through your duffel. A moment later, you heard the tap turn on and a glass fill. A packet of pills and the glass appeared in front of you and you accepted them gratefully, knowing the suppressants would take the edge off of your heat for now. You didn't like taking them, and your usual routine was to spend the four or five days this lasted, holed up in your room with a hot water bottle and some chick flicks. At the moment, you were on a salt and burn with Sam, which should have finished two days ago, only you were struggling to find out where the spirit's bones were buried.

'Sam, I gotta get home.' You said quietly, leaning back against the crappy motel room fridge.

'Not a problem. Pack up your stuff. I'll call Rudy and get him to put some other hunters on this. It's not like we've done much and this spirit isn't killing anyone.' Sam smiled reassuringly, and you returned the smile, before another cramp hit you. He frowned, and turned away, pulling his cell phone out, before you stumbled over to the bed and started pushing your clothes into your duffel.

A hour later, you were on the road, in the truck Sam had acquired for the trip. Dean was using the Impala for a different hunt another state over, and wasn't expected back before the end of the week. Which was good news. Dean always struggled when you were in heat, being the hot blooded Alpha that he was. So, as long as this was over by the weekend, you'd be fine. With that thought in your head, you curled up in the passenger seat and fell asleep to the lull of the old truck's engine.

Four hours passed, and you finally opened your eyes, feeling slightly better when you saw the bunker in view. As Sam pulled up into the driveway, your stomach dropped – the Impala was parked up at the front, indicating that Dean was home, which wasn't good. Sam grimaced at the sight of the familiar old car, and the truck rolled to a stop.

'You gonna be okay?'

'Yeah.' You nodded, although your tone was grim. 'Just, make sure he stays away yeah? This is as hard for him as it is for me.'

'I don't know why you two don't just -'

'Shut up, Sam.' You said quickly. He'd broached the subject several times since you'd joined them on their little crusade. You and Dean were certainly attracted to each other, but you had no desire for pups, and no desire to tie Dean down, when he was quite happy ploughing his way through the endless amounts of betas and other alphas in the world. Dean wasn't a one-omega kind of guy – you knew that and accepted it. You didn't want to entertain the thought of anything else.

'Sorry.' Sam mumbled, climbing from the truck. 'I'll get him in the library. You run through to your room, okay? He's gonna know you're there, but if you just go do your hibernating thing...' He trailed off, then nodded, before shutting the door and heading for the front of the bunker. When he'd disappeared, you climbed from the truck with a wince, wondering why the suppressants weren't working as well as they usually did, before grabbing your bag and slamming the door shut. You hurried into the bunker, getting a brief glimpse of Sam's back, concealing his brother from view, before you sprinted to your room and shut the door with an audible bang. Muffled voices reached you through the door, but you ignored it, clicking the lock into place and burying yourself in the blankets.

It was just a few days.

You could get through this again.

It felt like the room was on fire, and sweat soaked through your sheets as you tossed and turned. Whimpers tore themselves from your throat in defiance of your stubborn nature, and you wished it would just stop already. It had been less than twenty four hours, and you felt like you were dying. Heats had never been this bad before, but then how could you be surprised? No omega went this long without fulfilling the need for a mate. You never bothered with the continual suppressants, so really, this was to be expected. Biology was screwing you over, and you wondered how long it would be before this actually killed you.

The door to your room opened, and Sam walked in, concern covering his face. He held a tray of soup and a cup of orange juice, but your stomach turned at the sight of it, and you looked away as he shut the door and placed the tray on your nightstand.

'How are you feeling?' He sat on the edge of your bed, reaching over to place a hand on your forehead. 'Crap, Y/N. You're burning up.'

'It'll be over soon.' You said, your voice shaking.

He frowned. 'It's been a day. You can't keep pushing yourself through this. Can't we get anything to stop these heats happening?'

'I'm too old. My body is so used to it, the suppressants won't work. Even the temporary ones aren't doing anything any more.' You sniffed, sitting up and grimacing at the pain racking your body. 'I left it too long. Only taking a mate will fix this.'

'And you don't want that.' He clarified.

'It's not...I...' You flattened your palm against your sweaty forehead. 'I don't know.' He didn't say anything more, but ushered you to scoot across the bed. He moved, sitting against the headboard, with you leaning against him, his large hand stroking your wet hair.

Within minutes, you were asleep.

'She's bad this month, huh?' Dean said, through a mouthful of cereal, as Sam entered the library. His brother nodded, taking the seat opposite him. 'Thought so. Her pheromones are soaking this place.'

'Are you okay?'

'Aside from the fact that I wanna kick her door down and mount her like a friggin' teenager with no control?' Dean grinned sarcastically. 'I'm just peachy.'

'Maybe you should get out of here for a few days.' Sam suggested, pulling a newspaper across the table towards him, no longer looking at his brother.

'And why would I do that?'

'So it doesn't affect you?'

'That's not gonna happen, Sammy. I can control myself.' Dean levelled him with a glare, and Sam looked up, shocked at the accusation on his brother's face. 'You sure you can?'

'I'm a beta, Dean. Her heats don't affect me.'

'Maybe not. But she's pretty out of it, right? Omegas can get feisty when they're like this. Sure you don't wanna, relieve her suffering a little?'

Sam blinked, unsure of what he was hearing. He was detecting jealousy from his brother, which confused him. 'Dean, I'm a beta. I couldn't relieveanything even if I wanted to. I don't see Y/N like that, and you know it.'

'How?' Dean's eyes were blazing now, and Sam dropped the newspaper.

'Seriously, Dean? We're gonna have this conversation?'

'Well, I dunno, man. She's always going on hunts with you. Goes running with you. Hell, you were in her room with her for hours earlier.'

'She was in pain! I was offering comfort.' Sam's voice raised a little, before he calmed himself down and fixed his brother with a challenging stare. 'I don't see her like that. I love her like a sister.' He cleared his throat. 'Besides, she's got a thing for you.'

Dean froze. 'What?'

Sam grinned. 'I've been telling her to make a move for months. But she's convinced you're happier boning anything that comes along. You don't wanna be tied down to an omega, right? Or pups?' Dean was silent as he contemplated his brother's words. 'Anyway, she's only gonna get worse. She's older now, and the suppressants don't work. If we can't figure out a way to help her...these heats are gonna kill her.' He looked at Dean with worry in his eyes. 'We have to find something.'

'There's only one thing that can help.' Dean said quietly. 'But if she doesn't want that...'

'She does. She just thinks you don't. Which you do. I swear to god, I could smash your heads together. Both of you as stubborn as the other.' Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out the key to your room. 'Look, I'm trusting you. I know you care about her, Dean. Any idiot could see it. But before you use this? Make sure she's what you want forever. Don't break her. Please.' The older Winchester didn't move, his eyes focused on the key that Sam had placed on the table. His mind was racing – he wasn't gonna lie and say he wasn't attracted to Y/N, that he didn't feel seething jealously at the amount of time she spent with Sam. He knew, logically, that his brother wouldn't do anything because he wasn't an alpha; he didn't have the drive or the ability to mate with an omega. And Dean didn't feel that his attraction to Y/N was based solely on genetics, on their biology. He remembered the first time he'd seen her, and the way she'd spoken to him; god, it had been a long time since a woman had gotten him that hot, and he'd initially taken her for an alpha like him. But it hadn't taken long for her to out herself. It was why she'd been alone so long after all. Hunting was a bad business to be in without being an omega.

'Dean. You can't sit here forever.' Sam said quietly, pulling up the newspaper again. Dean glared at him, before standing and storming off.

The key sat on the table.

Sam sighed.

Your veins were filled with liquid fire, and you were fairly certain you'd drenched through every set of sheets you owned. You needed something, and you knew what it was, but you couldn't vocalise it. Because that would be admitting defeat. That would be admitting that you were no better than the genes you'd been stuck with, and god help you, you weren't ready to do that. Not for just anyone. Not just to make the pain go away. It was one thing to fall in love and take the next step; it was another to be forced to take the first option that came along.

Not that there'd been many.

You'd heard a door slam a few hours ago, but other than that, the only sounds you'd heard were your own ragged breathing and moans, and by now, you were wondering if you were going to start hallucinating. Your dreams – when you had sleep – were vivid and in places terrifying.

The door opened, and you sighed in relief. 'Sam.' You groaned. 'Please, I can't...' Your head lolled to the side and you saw that it wasn't Sam who'd come into your sanctuary. Dean stood in the doorway, looking apprehensive, a feral glint in his eyes.

'Jesus, Y/N.' He whispered, taking in the state of you, tangled in the soaked sheets, only in a sports bra and shorts.

'You're not Sam.'

Something flittered over Dean's face, and he scowled. 'No, I'm not.'

'Dean, you can't...' Another wave of heat hit you, and you cried out, as Dean shut the door, locking it. 'You can't...be...'

'I can't what? I can't help?' He scoffed. 'Sam can't exactly do much for you, Y/N.' He sounded angry, and you wondered if you were imagining this, and if you weren't, what had you done to upset him 'Sam said you don't want to solve this the easy way. He made me promise not to...'

'Not to what?' You pushed yourself up, moving further away unconsciously. Dean was kinda scaring you like this, and it didn't help when he clenched his fists, sweat breaking out on his forehead, and you knew that your heat was affecting him.

'He said you don't want me, because I'm not...I'm not mate material.' He glared at you, and you blinked, unsure of what Sam meant. 'That I'm happier being unattached.' You waited, knowing that's what you'd said to Sam, maybe in a different way, but you'd always felt that. Dean had always seemed disappointed that you were an omega and not an alpha like him. 'It's a lie, you know.'

The room was filled with more tension than you could stand, and you moved further back, feeling the edge of the bed behind you. 'Dean, I'm not gonna tie you down.' You winced, feeling a fresh wave of heat hit you, only this time, arousal was welling up with it. Being so close to Dean was making it ten times worse. He had to know that.

'You're not gonna.' He said, jaw tensing. 'Nothing about this would tie me down. But I can't stand by and watch you suffer like this. I can't watch someone else take you either.' His eyes shifted towards the door briefly. 'I thought that you'd...that you and Sam...'

'What? No!' You shook your head, regretting the action immediately. 'Sam's like my brother. I couldn't...' You sighed, looking down. 'Dean, it's always been you. But I didn't -'

'Didn't think to ask me?' He moved closer, and you realised you had nowhere to go. If he left now, this could be avoided, but if he got closer, if he touched you, you'd be lost. There wasn't any way out of this now. 'Y/N...why not? Why did you think I wouldn't want you? That I wouldn't want to claim you? Give you pups?' He smiled, reaching across the bed, and it felt like electricity in the air between you. His hand closed over yours, fisted in the damp sheets, and that was it. You were lost. 'It's always been you too, Y/N.'

He pulled you closer, and instantly, the touch of his skin, as his lips collided with yours, and the heat subsided a little. Arousal surged through you, and you moved into him, clinging to him like your life depended on it. This was it. You'd not wanted this five minutes ago, but somehow, with him being close, admitting what he had, this was everything. Dean was your other half, and the two of you slotted together like it had been a lifetime. Like you knew each other's every nuance. He kissed your lips with a tenderness you'd never experienced, and you gasped when he kissed a path down across your throat, pulling at your sports bra. You obliged him, and unhooked it, flinging it across the room.

Time passed like a blur, and before you knew it, you were laying naked on your bed, sheets thrown to the side as Dean peeled off his clothing and joined you. You knew that you should talk about this, before it went to far, but in the mix of hormones and everything that went with that, you didn't really care. You just wanted him, and only him.

As if picking up on your thoughts, Dean stilled, his hand on your thigh, the other holding himself up. 'It is me, right?' Insecurity seeped through his tone, and you smiled, reaching up to kiss him.

'It's you.' You replied, pulling him close. His cock bounced against your thigh, and you reached down, encircling him with your hand and he groaned as you pumped him a few times, brushing your thumb over his head, feeling the pre-cum leaking out.

His attitude changed then, and he pinned you down, holding your arms above your head with one hand as his other slid down your torso, finding your soaked entrance. He slipped two digits inside you with ease, smiling in satisfaction as you groaned and your walls clenched around him. 'Fuck, you're tight.' He pumped his fingers in and out of your channel, finding your sweet spot, before bending his head to suck one hard nipple into his mouth. You cried out under the double sensation, and Dean reared back, pulling his hand away. 'I can't wait.' He said, flipping you over. You scrambled onto your knees, straightening your back as Dean moved behind you, pulling you flush against him. 'I'm gonna claim you, Y/N. And I'm gonna keep you.'

'Dean...'

'What?' He asked, his tone impatient as he cupped your breasts from behind.

'Please...' You urged, and he pushed you forward, rubbing his cock against your dripping folds before pushing home. When he was fully inside you, his hands clamped around your hips and he started to fuck you mercilessly. You pushed back onto him, meeting him blow for blow, and he grunted as he bent forward, leaning his forehead against your back.

'Mine. You're mine, Y/N. Don't forget that.' He thrust harder and you screamed, unable to answer him. 'Please.' His thrusts only got harder and you tried to match up to him, feeling bruises blooming where his fingers gripped you. The idea of it made you tighten around him, knowing he was marking you as his.

'Dean...I'm gonna...' You gasped out, your face half buried in the pillows. Dean nodded, and his cock swelled inside you, and you felt his knot, linking him to you. He pulled you upright again, his movements lessening as his cock swelled too much to allow more thrusting, and as he came with a cry, he buried his teeth in your shoulder, drawing blood. You screamed his name loudly, and he let go, letting you fall to the bed.

Silence filled the room, save for the shared pants of your breathing. Satisfaction flooded your body, and you sighed in contentment, feeling the heat dispersing totally. Dean was still lodged firmly inside you, and he tapped your ass gently, indicating that you should move. Carefully, you both rolled to the side, and he pulled you close into his arms.

'Sorry.' He muttered.

'What for?'

'It was...rushed.' He buried his face in your hair, and you giggled.

'Trust me, not complaining.' You shifted your hips slightly, enjoying the feel of his knot, and the warmth of his cum inside you. 'Dean?'

'Hmm mm?' He sounded sleepy.

'Next time...' You started, then stopped. 'Never mind.'

'What?' He asked.

'Harder.' You whispered, hearing his response in the form of a chuckle.

'Kinky bitch.'


	12. Hey Jealousy (DeanReader)

Hey Jealousy

Summary: You've had a major crush on dean forever, and for the last couple of months, you've been dropping serious hints. Only Dean isn't picking anything up. When Ketch shows up and shows interest, Dean's jealousy makes an appearance.

You're not blind. You'd noticed how goddamn attractive he was the moment you met him. You'd seen how well he filled out, well everything, his t-shirts must've been a size too small right? It's the only explanation for the way his muscles stretch the fabric just so over his thick arms and the planes of his back. It's probably why he wears those thick flannels over the top, he needs the extra layer. And god those legs. Strong bow legs outlined in denim. His whole body is just, ugh, a tree you wanted to climb. That's without even beginning to describe his face; perfectly chiseled and home to the most interesting eyes and full lips you've ever seen.

He's fucking handsome. We get it. He doesn't need to be that head to toe beautiful. It's borderline obnoxious.

But, sometimes you can't always act on these things when you want to. You're in the middle of a hunt when you first see him. A vampire nest outside of Aurora. It's all pretty textbook. The idiot bloodsucker you've been tracking leads you from this dive bar to a closed down warehouse and it being the middle of the night the nearby businesses are empty. You scope the place out, sneak in, and you've taken out three of them, still holding a now decapitated head in your hand, when Sam and Dean Winchester bust in like they're the heroes of this story. Normally you'd be annoyed by another hunter, or two, interrupting you while you're in the middle of something but there's still three vampires left so maybe there's a small flutter of relief at their arrival. Then they're all dead and the first time you meet Dean, really look at that perfect fucking face of his, is over a pile of dead vampires as you're burning the evidence together. He's not any less handsome but you're not exactly feeling your most alluring. Not covered in blood stains and bumpy skin that'll be bruised in the morning.

Not making a move that first night had been self-preservation. You'd been trying to save yourself the embarrassment of him turning your messy ass down. Although you convince yourself it's good manners. You convince yourself it'd be rude to hit on him mid-hunt. It'd be a different story in a bar but you're on the job, it's no time to stare at him like a piece of meat.

Anyway, you'd been bleeding. You'd killed four vamps by the end, but one got a taste. The bite mark on your shoulder was deep and bleeding pretty substantially even with the rag you were holding on it. Honestly, you're lucky the idiot couldn't get a good shot at your neck or you wouldn't be standing.

Sam had insisted on patching you up with promises that he stitched like a pro. Dean had promised you breakfast with a wink that made your stomach tighten. That's all it had been. Medical attention and a suggestive promise of food. That's how you ended up staying at the bunker for that first night.

Well, really, that's how you moved in. And moving in is how you became friends with them.

Now you've been there a few years. You've met their mother, a woman who was famously dead for decades. You've seen other realities and archangels and met God. It's too much to list everything. Their lives are not that of normal hunters and by association, your grip on reality has loosened a bit as well. Even considering that your reality had already included monsters and demons.

It's just that recently, maybe the last six months or so, there's something that's really been grinding your gears. Or should you say, nothing is grinding your gears and therein lies the problem. You haven't got laid in a while and all because of Dean-freaking-Winchester.

You're stuck between a rock and a hard place. Even on the hunts where you do go off on your own, because sometimes you need a few days, you can't just pick up some townie at a bar like you used to. They never come close to Dean and invariably seem like a waste of your time. Or like you're cheating on your crush. There's your hard place.

The rock is Dean himself. Because only an actual rock could be as obtuse as he is to the signals you are putting out there.

There are all these random moments. The hours, sometimes days, between the hunting crap where you live normal lives. Movie nights where you swan off to your room to slip into something more comfortable first. Something that showed off a little too much leg or was a little too tight around the chest and was, generally speaking, not always that comfortable. Or there were the touches you'd started laying on him. A hand that lingers too long on his arm or fingers that ghost over his when he hands you a coffee.

Between all the physical touches and the stares, the flirting, you'd been about as subtle as a bull in a china shop. The number of times you'd laughed at his lame jokes should have been enough, right? It was finally starting to dawn on you that maybe Dean Winchester did not, like he suggested the first night he met you, want to share post sex breakfast with you. It was very possible he didn't even want the sex part of that equation.

And then Ketch came to call.

The knock at the bunker door was out of the ordinary sure but nothing you didn't think one of the boys could handle. You weren't rushing to answer it yourself anyhow, not when you've read the same page of the book in your hands over and over again. Once again caught in your own heard thinking about him rather than whatever you were trying to read about. Maybe one more attempt and you'll actually absorb the words this time.

When you still have no idea what you're reading after two more tries you finally give up, dog-ear the page and haul your ass off the bed to investigate.

"You think you can show up and we're just going to let you stay? I don't want you here while I sleep." Dean's voice is loud enough to hear before you step foot into the war room. You can tell he's not really angry though, there's a hint of amusement behind the gruffness, the kind of tone he reserves for people he doesn't completely hate.

"What exactly are you worried about me doing?" The response is smooth, polished and decidedly British.

They both stop bickering when you enter. You should have known that it was Ketch but having only met him on a handful of occasions you hadn't recognized his particular lilt without seeing his face. Before you get a chance to even say hello he smiles at you, "why Dean thinks anyone would be interested in bothering him when you're in the room is beyond me. Y/N, always a pleasure."

It's not like you're an Anglophile but yeah, sure, his accent is easy on ear. And when he's complimenting you it's all the better. Especially with how bruised your ego is from constantly being shut down by a certain Winchester for months on end. The heat rising up your neck as you step closer to them both, it's just biological.

"Well, I'm not going to complain if you want to stay a few days." You casually add to a conversation you weren't a part of as you take a seat in the middle of the map table. Unconsciously an equal distance from them both.

"'Course not when he's nice to you!" There's no hidden amusement behind his words this time. Dean is suddenly genuinely agitated and you have no idea why.

"Oh, because being nice to me is a crime now?" You shoot a glare at Dean, more annoyed than you should be. He doesn't know the torture he's been putting you through, it's not really his fault that you're so eager for a compliment.

Ketch watches you both with interest but is not swayed or distracted, "Y/N, as I was telling this ape-"

"See!"

"-before you got here. I'm working on a commission in the area and use of the library would be incredibly helpful. It would only be a few days and since I have previously helped him out of some particularly sticky situations, perhaps he would be so inclined to return the favor."

You feel yourself involuntarily nodding along with him as he speaks. His lips aren't as full as Dean's but it's still nice to watch his words fall from them. "It's not like we don't have the room," you add helpfully.

Dean, from somewhere behind you and your now focus on Ketch, protests again, "he's literally a goon for hire, for all we know he's here to kill us."

Ketch let's out this condescending chuckle that you can tell riles Dean up without even glancing in his direction, "Dean, if I wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead. In any situation Y/N has nothing to worry about, I could never rid the world of something so lovely."

You hadn't liked the casual mention of killing Dean. Even as a joke the idea made a dull weight form in your stomach. It's just, Ketch so easily switches back to complimenting you on the same breath. You don't mean to smile like a sap at him, it just kind of happens.

"Fine, he wants to stay, he can stay. But when we all wake up dead..." Ketch opens his mouth but Dean doesn't let him have the pleasure, "shut up."

Then there's the stomping of boots in the distance and you and Ketch are alone for the first time in all of your meetings.

"He's always the charmer, isn't he?"

"Are you really going to pretend that you didn't do that on purpose?"

Ketch's eyes twinkle mischievously which is so unlike any other time you've met him that it strikes you as odd how un-Ketch like it seems. He glides into the seat next to you with an unnatural agility and half cocks his head in your direction, "I am absolutely sure I don't know what you're talking about, even if I did what harm is there in ruffling his feathers?"

"He did just let agree to let you stay."

Maybe it's his stiff upper lip but Ketch delivers everything he says like his life is already scripted so it's no surprise when he leans in an inch or two and whispers as smooth as silk, "well aren't I the lucky one?"

You offer to help Ketch with some of his research because you're a good host. It's definitely not because he steals the occasional glance. And you're definitely not intoxicated by the attention like a sixteen-year-old sneaking a wine cooler at prom.

Nothing would ever happen with Ketch. You've heard stories about him and bluntly put, he's simply not the man Dean is. It's just comforting to feel wanted again. It's a confidence boost you didn't know you needed and he'll be gone in a few days anyway. Why can't you enjoy being wanted for once?

"Y/N?" Dean clears his throat and you hide the widening of your eyes by staring intently at the page because honestly? You have no idea how long he's been there watching you with Ketch.

"Yeah, Dean?" You try to stay nonchalant but with him standing there you've started doing that can't read thing again.

"Thinking about going out for burgers, wanna come with?"

That catches your attention enough for you to look up. At first glance, he looks the same as ever and yet he's different somehow. A suggestion of nerves in his voice and something else you can't get a read on. That's not to mention how out of character the question is in the first place. If he's going out for food he hollers from wherever he is, saves him asking you and Sam separately. And he rarely asks for company, you always figured he liked some time to himself when he went out.

Just as you open your mouth to ask him if he's ok Ketch speaks up, "hard luck, Y/N already agreed to accompany me to dinner."

"I did?" you blurt out and catch Ketch wink fast enough that only you see. "Right, right. I did."

Your compliance with Ketch sets Dean's jaw for all of a second before he shakes it off and manages a cocky smile, "we're all going out huh? I had no idea, I'll go get Sammy. I don't know about you but I am hungry."

"At least wear something other than flannel!" Ketch calls out after Dean's disappearing form.

You wait about a nanosecond before you turn to him, "I said yes to dinner when?"

He sits back in the high leather chair like he's a Bond villain, the accent doesn't help the image, "don't get me wrong while I would have thoroughly enjoyed our tryst, I am strongly inclined to believe that I may not be welcomed back if I dally with something that does not belong to me."

"You call this welcome?" You motion with a hand in the direction Dean disappeared to.

Why can't he just spell out what he means without the intrigue? If he had you might have understood what he was trying to imply before Sam appeared, lurching forward as if he had been shoved into the room followed by Dean sporting a too wide smile.

"Where we eating then?"

Dinner is weird. The whole situation reeks of weird. If you didn't know any better you'd think it was a hunt by the knot in your gut, the one that normally forms when something is about to go wrong.

It's a goddamn Olive Garden for crying out loud but Ketch holds your chair out like it's five-star fine dining. He's British so you just write it off but then Dean watches you sit down like he might murder Ketch, or you, or both of you. Ketch orders the most expensive bottle of wine they have and it's only like a hundred bucks, but still, it's a sizeable amount more than the beer Dean is sucking down. Normally you'd be nursing a brown bottle too but Ketch insists on wine for the lady. You normally wouldn't give in but he hands you a glass with this reserved elegance and damn if it doesn't make you feel like a lady. Dean orders the same food as you because he says that you always order the best thing on the menu and then Ketch swoops to agree that you have excellent taste.

As the evening wears on you feel more and more like a toy that they both want to play with. Except Dean doesn't want to play with you right? He's your friend. He's made that perfectly clear by the way he's been ignoring your advances for months. He's just being protective.

At some point, you look hopefully at Sam who shrugs as if it answers your question. You're not even sure you know what the question was but you know Sam's apathy wasn't the answer you were looking for.

Then, once you've finished the pie that Dean ordered for your dessert, the check comes. Somewhere in your imagination, there's the sound of a rattlesnake to signify the coming showdown. They both square their shoulders and for the first time that night they seem to have forgotten that you, or anyone else, exists. It's just them and their dumb argument about who's picking up the tab.

You've drunk too much wine by this point to care or be impressed by their pissing match.

"Eugh, can we just go home please?" You're up out of your chair, frustrated and swaying your way to the door with Sam in your wake.

If you had stayed in your seat for even 30 seconds longer you might have seen the way Dean looks at you, or if you'd have turned your head back once you'd have noticed how distracted he is watching you walk away. Ketch has more than enough time to pay and get up out of his seat while he waits for Dean to come back to reality.

"She is something isn't she?" Ketch is smug and proud even when complimenting someone else.

Dean stands up with the scrape of his chair on the floor, bringing himself to full height against his suited adversary. "When are you leaving again?"

"Oh, not for a few days. Plenty of time to get to know her."

"Well, well, well boys. Looks like this is my round."

"I think it's positively adorable that you don't feel the need to have anything close to resembling a poker face." Ketch catches your eye making you pout exaggeratedly from behind your cards.

Sam had been tired, or so he'd said, and he'd gone to bed but you were caught in that sweet spot after drinking where sleep was the last thing on your mind. And since Ketch had been so eager to stay up with you Dean had suggested poker with a fervent shout, like the idea was escaping his body without permission. Which is how you got here. Sitting around a table with both of them opposite you, Dean slightly to your left and Ketch slightly to your right. You're losing miserably at this point and normally you'd be horrified about that except you're buzzed and don't really care.

At least you're having a good time. Dean, on the other hand, is not. Everytime Ketch opens his mouth you'd swear you can hear him grind his teeth. It gets louder if Ketch is talking to you directly.

"Come on then Rainman, you gonna call?" Dean grumbles.

"Call?" you quip, pressing your cards to your chest to protect your secret. "Are you kidding me? I raise!"

Dean had got his chips out, the nice set you bought him the Christmas before last, and even though your pile is the smallest you wiggle in your chair in excitement with your decision. There's a big song and dance, waggling eyebrows and a little chuckle as you push the pile to the center, "that's right, I'm all in!"

"You sure, sweetheart?"

Being on the way to fully drunk it's even harder to fight the blush when he calls you that. So, you don't fight. You smile down at your cards and let the pink flush your cheeks. "Yeah. I'm sure."

You can feel Dean's eyes on you. There's no way to explain how you know he's looking at you other than a tingling under your skin, but you just know. And you're terrified to bring your gaze up to his because you have no idea what you might find there. It could be the final nail in the coffin, it could be an expression so far removed from lust that it finally ends your crush. God, he could be staring at you like you're the little sister he never had, who shouldn't be gambling so frivolously.

Your feelings for Dean are not always easy to deal with but they're yours and you're not ready to let them wither and die. You're not ready to have your heart broken over a drunken game of poker, in front of Ketch of all people. So, you don't look at him. You chicken out and take this deep, shuddering breath while you continue to study your cards, even though you know them by now.

"Ketch, your turn?"

"So it would seem." He answers smoothly. Either unphased or unaware of what just happened. He calls, which isn't all of his chips since you'd been losing. As he pushes his bet into the center of the table he adds an afterthought, "I like a woman who lives dangerously."

Something snaps in Dean that you'd swear makes an actual sound in the relative quiet of the room. Like the crack of a twig underfoot. Without a beat or taking another look at his cards he growls, "I'm in."

Ketch seems less and less oblivious to Dean's anger and more like he's actively ignoring it. Or he's simply much better at whatever game they're playing. It's certainly not about poker. "Care to reveal yourself Y/N?"

You lay down your cards with a sloppy smirk on your face, "four of a kind." You're pretty pleased with yourself and turn to Dean playfully, "you're up cowboy."

"I can't beat that," he drawls, putting his cards on the table face down. There's a grin all for you at beating him but before you can get lost in a wordless moment with him Ketch steals your attention again.

"Looks like I win." He turns over a goddamn royal flush and you resist making some lame joke about his monarchy. Instead, you crease your forehead at him and throw your hands up in the air.

"Really? This was supposed to be my round."

"Would you have wanted me to let you win?"

Normally your answer is no but normally you don't have the better half of two bottles of wine swirling around your stomach, "yes. That's exactly what I wanted."

Dean snorts and you throw a glare in his direction, "what are you laughing at? You've still gotta beat him, you know, for America!"

Ketch sees his opportunity and pounces, "what about for you?"

Even though everything, since he's got here, has pointed to you being what they're fighting over it's still momentarily jarring to hear it out loud. You scoff, "I don't know what you do in England but here…"

"I'm not suggesting anything more nefarious than a kiss."

"A kiss?" You parrot back to him and he nods. You can't look at Dean but suddenly he's all you can think about. KIssing Dean would either put your crush to bed or push you to obsession. Either way, it'd be something real and tangible. Something yours, if only once.

Dean is noticeably silent as you sit back in your chair and Ketch, thankfully, doesn't break eye contact with you. He's daring you. Even sober you're too competitive to walk away from his challenge.

"Done. Winner gets a kiss."

Ketch smirks, "we have an accord then."

Dean wins the next round but Ketch had a substantial haul from your 'all in' idiocy so it doesn't wipe the Englishman out completely. The corner of his mouth does twitch ever so slightly as Ketch's shoulder slump in defeat though.

You're sitting opposite them both silent. Refusing to show anything more than a passing interest in the game. The ice that you're swirling in your drink is far more interesting. At least, that's what you try to convince yourself.

Ketch wins the next round but the ante hadn't been as reckless. His victory probably puts them on more or less even footing now, both of them hoarding a fairly equal pile of chips.

That's when you realize how equally matched they both seem to be. Offering a kiss to the winner hadn't seemed weird until the third game starts. Fairly instantly this feels like the deciding game and now you're sitting there as less of an observer and more of a prize. There's not a crack in their poker faces and though neither of them looks at you it still feels like you're under the spotlight.

Dean downs his glass when he looks at his cards which you initially think is bad but then he bets big so was it a bluff? Ketch leans back confidently but then seems more reluctant to call, that is until the last round when predictably both of their pots, every last chip, ends up in the middle of the table.

"Y/N what's that phrase I'm looking for?" Dean asks you without actually looking at you, he's in a battle of eye contact with Ketch.

You're startled out of your silence, "what?"

"Oh yeah, read 'em and weep." He turns to you now, "or in your case pucker up."

There's that heat creeping up the back of your neck again and you face is forcefully trying to stop a grin spreading out over it. If you didn't know any better your heart just pumped out of your chest like a cartoon.

"While I appreciate your confidence it would appear that for the second time today it's your hard luck." Ketch elegantly spreads his cards over the top of Deans as if he needed an extra illustration that his hand beats Dean's.

You tear your eyes away from the cards to look at Dean who is mostly frozen in place. Ketch wastes not a second before he's out of his chair and walking around the table, holding out a hand to you. "If you'd be so inclined I'll take my winnings and get off to bed."

A hand slams on the table behind you but Dean holds whatever he might have said inside as you slide your hand in Ketch's and stand up. It's just a kiss you think. You're the one who should feel the most awkward considering your crush. Even so, it's just a kiss.

Ketch is a man of style so a kiss is not just a kiss.

He pulls you to him with your hand and slides his other to the back of your neck. His hand at your neck, in your hair, is a means to support you while he dips you in his arm and presses his lips to yours. For all the showmanship and flourish he puts into it the kiss is relatively tame. It's a chaste press of his lips on yours, he doesn't try for anything more. But it's a long moment in time and between that and the slight headrush as he pulls you upright again there's still the ghost of a breathless giggle on your lips when he lets go of you.

"Goodnight Y/N, you're welcome." He whispers as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. "Good game Dean," he adds in a bright, chipper voice as he leaves for his room.

You had no mind to follow him and ask for an explanation. At that point, you're still under the impression that he means you're welcome for the kiss because you still don't understand what Ketch had meant all those hours ago in the library. You still don't understand what Ketch has been doing all day since he first saw you and Dean together.

"Erm, I'm going to- I think I should get to bed too." You say looking everywhere but at Dean because if he saw the way you're biting your lip to hide a smile he might get the wrong idea. You don't want to sleep with Ketch, it's just been a while since you were kissed is all.

The problem with your escape plan is Dean himself. You make it all of two steps down the corridor when calloused fingers wrap around your upper arm.

"Dean, what the…?" the surprise in your voice is knocked out of you by a few things happening at once. He boxes you in with your back pressed against the hard wall behind you. One of his hands is pressed against the wall beside your head and the other still on your arm, his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin. His head is slightly dipped in your direction and it might be the closest you've ever been to him while his focus is all on you. He's making the absolute choice to invade your personal space.

"You're not following him are you?"

For the first time, you notice there's a hint of worry in his face and a knot in his brow. Though you don't understand it you are quick to expel his fears.

"No! I told you I was going to bed."

The switch is instant, worry turns into something deeper. His eyes darken in a stark contrast to the usual rich green and his tongue darts out over those fucking full lips. Which makes you stare at his mouth obviously, catching every syllable as he forms it.

"Good, good."

"Why? You're not jealous are you?"

"I don't get jealous sweetheart." His hand creeps up your body, his fingers nimble and soft over your shoulder and neck before his fingers settle over your cheek. You want to call him out on his complete and utter bullshit but it's hard when just a simple touch leaves you struggling to breathe.

"So, you're not about to tell me I'm yours or some macho jealous crap?"

He ducks a little lower, his lips barely brushing your as he answers, "Nah, I'll show you instead."


	13. Era of Choice (DeanReaderSamJohn)(Tw)

Era Of Choice

Summary:Growing up, you were John's favourite. He treated you like a princess and treated the boys like worthless soldiers. They always resented you for that. Now, Dean is a demon and Sam lost his soul. Nothing is stopping them from seeking revenge on John and using you to do it.

You sit across from your father as you both look at the large map spread out on the table. Sam and Dean have been missing for almost two weeks. That means, John has barely slept or eaten in that entire time.

"Daddy, I'm going to go get us some dinner. Is there something special you want? I can get you anything. I just want you to-"

"Don't bother. I won't eat whatever shit you bring me. Just shut the hell up so I can think!" John dismisses you.

He rests his elbows on the table and runs his hands through his salt and peppered hair. He is running out of places to look for his boys. The trail is running cold. The fear that his sons my drop off the map forever keeps John on edge.

This isn't the first time he's snapped at you. You know it won't be the last.

You don't take offense. You know he is stressed out. Your dad isn't usually like this. He is usually kind to you, kinder than he is to your brothers anyway. He usually appreciates when you try to take care of him. But with Sam and Dean gone, he has to become a different person. He has to become even more focused than usual. He doesn't have time for niceties. Right now, patience is a luxury he cannot afford. Once you get your brothers back, you'll get your father back as well.

Sam and Dean had run off together last month. Sam lost his soul and Dean became a demon. Dealing with each problem separately wouldn't be so hard. But with both brothers on a soulless bender, they feed off each other. They easily evaded John's attempts to contain them.

John looks up from the table to see you shifting on your feet. John groans to himself with disappointment. He realizes he once again is taking his frustration out on you. You are just trying to help.

"Y/N, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." John is not an apologetic man. But, he hates seeing you frown.

"It's okay. I'm a big girl. I understand. We'll find them," you reassure him.

"Damn right we will, sweetheart." John gets up from his seat to kiss your forehead. He throws you the keys to his truck. "Maybe a burger isn't such a bad idea," he acquiesces. He knows you worry about him. He hates seeing you worry. But the second the motel door closes behind you, John's forced smile fades.

Sam and Dean left to wreak havoc across the country together. You and John are just trying to play catch up. John had them trapped in the bunker's dungeon. But, they broke out after you fell asleep while on watch.

You will never forget that disappointment in John's eyes when he came home to find you had shirked your duties and let them escape. He says he is over it. But, there are still hints of anger in voice when he speaks to you. Once you find your brothers, you're hoping that anger will dissipate.

You have followed their obvious trail of bodies. Your brothers aren't even trying to lay low. It's like they want to be found. But with every drop of blood spilt, your father falls a little deeper into darkness. Sam and Dean are always one step out of reach.

John feels like a failure. Not only was he unable to stop his son's transformations, but he is taking his anger out on his one remaining child. But most of all, John fears what will happen when he finds his sons. He knows he'll probably have to kill them. That responsibility will land on him. You could never pull the trigger on your brothers. John would never put that onus on you anyway. So, John is grappling to accept the full burden.

You have yet to accept that fate. You still think you are finding your brothers so you can fix them. John decides it's best to keep you in the dark until the deed is already done. You are still his little princess. You may have been raised a hunter, but you never lost your sense of hope. You are all grown up, a woman in the eyes of the world. But, you are still his little girl. He doesn't want to take away that sweet quality. You are the only Winchester who hasn't had their light snuffed out.

You're different than the boys. Despite the harsh life you lead, you still see the good. You are still innocent enough to believe things will work out for the best. But, that is just John's nice way of saying you are still naive enough to be an optimist.

So, John doesn't want to tell you his plans for Sam and Dean if he doesn't have to. He's hoping that keeping you in the dark, will spare your light. He wants one Winchester to make it out unscathed.

* * *

You get back from the grocery store with an arm full of provisions. You got the kinds of foods that can be eaten here or be taken on the road if you get a new lead and have to skip town. You push open the motel door with your foot so you don't drop your food.

You hear a throat clear and you look up to see Dean standing in front of your bed. You drop your food without a second thought.

"Dean!" You squeal with excitement as you rush over to him. You wrap your arms around him and pull him in for a bone crushing hug.

As Dean returns your embrace, you realize your mistake. You had been too excited to see your older brother again that you forgot why he was gone in the first place. But as his arms tighten around you, you become all too aware of the danger you put yourself in. You try pushing yourself out of his hold but his firm grip over you doesn't relent.

"Hey, baby girl. We missed you," Dean coos in your ear. He buries his nose in your hair and takes a deep breath.

You start squirming in his hold. You try to push the demon away but it is all in vain. Even before he got demonic strength, your older brother could easily overpower you. Your frantic movements still when you hear another throat clear from across the room.

"Don't I get a hello, too?" You hear the voice of your other brother call out.

Dean turns you around so you can face the rest of your family. Sam is standing next to a beaten and bloodied John. John is restrained to the wooden kitchen chair. His hands are bound behind his back. There is duct tape on each ankle securing him in place.

Your father stares at you with wide eyes. He tries saying something to you but his warning words are muffled by the duct tape over his mouth.

John looks over to where Dean is moving the hair off your shoulder and tightening his arm around your waist. You filch away from the demon but don't get very far. John starts thrashing against his restraints when he sees the wickedness in Dean's eyes. But Sam stills his father by landing a thick crack to John's jaw.

You lunge forward to help your father but Dean holds you back. Sam leave's John's side once he is sure the old man is secured.

"S-Sammy, please!" you beg him as he approaches you.

"How many times do I have to remind you? Only Dean can call me Sammy." There is a hardness in his voice that brings tears to your eyes.

John was always kind to you growing up and your brothers resented you for that. They were treated like soldiers. You were treated like the precious princess they should give their lives to protect. The boys were raised to believe they were expendable in the fight against good and evil. You were raised to believe you were the one worth fighting for.

John was never shy about his favouritism. He would berate his sons and dote after his daughter. You are his only girl. The older you get, the more you remind John of Mary. He protects you in the way he wasn't able to protect her.

Since the boys could not voice their resentment to John, they directed their hatred toward you.

Sam and Dean never coddled you like John did. Their bitterness toward you bonded them together. Their alliance cemented over their mutual disdain. It started as simple sibling exclusion. But it soon escalated.

It got to the point in which they would eat all the groceries John left behind. You'd go without food for days on end. They would 'forget' to pick you up from school before they left town to meet up with John. You'd have to take the bus to the next town over to catch up. They would hit you a little too hard during your training sessions. And, you never told John this, but one time they used you as bait to lure out a Shtriga. You still have a scar on your shoulder from that night.

In each instance, you played it off as a joke, common sibling antics. But you knew there was more to it. And, it cut you a little deeper as their words got sharper and their hits got stronger.

They pushed you away no matter how hard you tried to get on their good side. You would try and help Sam with research but he'd tell you it'd be quicker if he did it alone. You feigned an interest in cars to get close to Dean but he wouldn't let you anywhere near Baby.

You tried going to bars with them after a case. But they would ditch you and leave you with the tab while they each found a waitress to go home with. The next morning, John would get pissed at them for leaving you to walk back to the motel alone. That only perpetuated the cycle of hatred.

You tried asking John to dial it down a bit but his efforts never lasted. Eventually you stopped trying to insert yourself in your brothers' lives. They didn't want you there. They made that clear.

So, when your brothers turned into the monsters before you, you were hell-bent on finding and curing them. You were hoping that once the dust settles, they would appreciate the lengths you went to to get them back. You were hoping to prove yourself, prove your devotion. Maybe then they would let you into their lives and accept you.

Dean's tight grip over your upper arms break you out of your memories. He holds you so your back is pressed up against his chest as Sam towers over your front. You don't look your brother in the eye. You're afraid of what you will see.

Since he lost his soul, Sam's resentment has morphed into a drive for retribution. To him, you are merely the thing that absorbed all the love John had to spare. You are not his sister. You are something to blame.

John took Sam and Dean's childhood and gave it to you. John corrupted his sons and sacrificed their safety for your sake. They carried that burden for a lifetime. They swallowed their resentment as best they could.

But now, the brothers are liberated from the confines of their human souls. There is nothing holding them back. Now, they are free to lay blame and vent their deep seeded issues. They knew the best way to get back at their father is to go through you. They decided the best way to retaliate against their father's neglect, is to destroy the one thing he loves most. You.

Their lacking souls make it so they don't care they are taking their frustrations out on the wrong person. Their goal is to hurt John, corrupt his heart. Break him. Turn him into a shell of the man he once was. And, it just so happens the easiest way to do that, is with you.

Sam reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. You try and finch away but Dean's bruising grip over you stops you from getting very far. Sam's fingers trail down your cheek as he takes a step closer to you. He is now standing with his chest pressed up against yours.

He hooks his finger under your chin so you're forced to look at him. His touch is gentle. It completely contrasts the severity in his eyes.

You hold his gaze. For a moment, you think you catch a glimpse of the brother you know and love. The one who may not like you, but at least loves you enough not to hurt you. But the Sam before you now is not that man. The man before you is not your brother. He does not concern himself with the restraints associated with obligatory love.

Sam grips you chin between his thumb and forefinger. He lowers his head down and you narrow your eyes in confusion before you realize what he's going to do. Your eyes widen and your stomach churns as he attaches his lips onto yours. You heart falls out of your chest as you are forced to accept your brother's bruising kiss. You try pulling away but he grips your jaw and keeps you still.

The kiss is messy and wet. His lips are more concerned with claiming dominance then searching out pleasure. Although you cannot believe there is much pleasure to be had kissing your brother. When your heart finally starts beating again, it picks up an inhuman pace.

Your lip quivers against Sam's and tears stream down your cheeks. You want nothing more than to let out a violent sob but don't want to risk opening your mouth. A panic settles within you as Sam tries to deepen the kiss. His tongue demands entrance and you push back against Dean to get away from Sam. That proved to be a mistake.

As you back into Dean, he grips you tighter. He presses the bulge in his pants against your lower back. He ruts his hips into you as Sam pins you between them.

"You look so pretty with Sammy on your lips, baby girl," Dean whispers in your ear. You bite back another sob as you realize that is the first compliment Dean has paid you in years. You are used to nothing but backhanded compliments and outright insults from your older brother.

This can't be real. This can't be happening. These are your brothers. They may be in a bad place right now, but they wouldn't do this. You're still their sister.

Dean uses his one free hand to grip your hair and pull your head back. That action causes Sam to break his claiming kiss. He drags your bottom lip through his teeth as you slip away from him. You can taste the blood he drew from you.

You can finally catch the breath Sam had forcefully stolen from your lungs. But before that breath of recovery turns into a breath of relief, Dean's lips latch onto your neck. He pulls the strap of your tank top down your shoulder so he can lavish your bare skin. Meanwhile, Sam stakes his claim on your collarbone. His hands are pawing dangerously close to your breasts.

"D-Daddy," you beg for John's help with a strangled cry. Your brothers have you sandwiched. Their hold over you is like quicksand. The more you struggle the faster you drown.

The brothers start laughing against your skin.

Dean pulls his mouth off you just long enough to murmur a measly five syllables. "You owe me a beer," Dean says to his brother with a triumphant smile. Dean then returns his lips to your raging pulse.

Sam groans. "Fine, whatever. It was a stupid bet, anyway. We both knew she wouldn't last." Sam retorts to Dean. Sam looks up to see confusion mixed in with your disgust. "Dean and I had a bet going. We wanted to see how long you'd last before calling to your precious Daddy for help," Sam informs you. "Dean said you wouldn't last ten minutes. I thought you'd at least hold out until the main event. Turns out, he was right." Sam shrugs before returning his attention to your overworked skin.

"M-Main event?" You are scared to ask. Best case scenario, they give you a quick death. Worst case scenario, their kisses turn into something more sinister.

Sam pulls away from you and confirms the worst case scenario. His hand slips down the front of your jeans. He cups your mound under the tight denim but over your panties. "Daddy can't help you now. Don't worry, baby girl. Dean and I will take good care of you." The empty smile he offers you, chills you to your bones.

You can feel your brother graze against your most private area. There is nothing but a thin cotton layer between you and Sam's thick fingers. You are no longer able to stifle your sob.

Sam looks over his shoulder to give John the same smile he gave you. You can't see John over Sam. But you can hear his muffled yelling mixed with the sound of him fighting against his restraints. At least you still have him fighting on your side, the side of sanity.

You can't let this happen. These are your brothers. When you get them back to normal, they will be flooded with guilt. What they have already done is bad enough. You cannot let things escalate to the 'main event.' You won't let them go through that added guilt.

But most of all, you can let this happen for your own sake. Having your brothers touch you in this way is making your stomach churn and your skin crawl. Their calloused hands claw away at your dignity.

"Stop!" You state as clearly as possible. "I don't want this. You don't want this. The real you wouldn't want this! Please don't do this," you beg. You make it clear that their actions are being done against your will. You hold the delusion that once they realize that, they will stop. But they don't.

"Our pouty girl is used to getting her way, isn't she?" Dean asks before he bites down over the skin his tongue was lavishing a moment ago. His grip in your hair tightens. He jerks your head back even further and he brings his lips to your ear. "Times change, princess. I think it's time Sammy and I get our way for once."

Before you have time to ask what that means, Sam pulls his hand from your pants. He rips open your shirt as if the fabric was made of paper. Once the shock gives way to panic, you crack your forehead against Sam's nose as he tries moving in for another kiss. He stumbles back and holds his bleeding nose.

Dean's grip falters as he is surprised by your sudden act of violence. You take advantage of Dean's lapse and kick your leg back into his shin.

They must be out of their minds if they thought that you wouldn't put up a fight. You're a Winchester. You'll always go down swinging.

Dean too stumbles back just enough for you to break free.

You rush across the room to where John is tied down. You can't understand what he is trying to tell you through the tape. But by the pleading in his eyes, you know he is telling you to run and leave him behind. But that's not who you are. That's not who he raised you to be.

You are clawing at the tape around his wrist when a familiar hand wraps itself into your hair. You are yanked back and forced to face your brothers once more. Dean lets you go once you are upright.

Sam has blood streaming down his face but you don't feel bad for him. Maybe you would if it was your Sam and not this monster. He takes a step forward but you don't back down. You raise your fists and stand in front of your defenceless father. You can hear John's muffled protests behind you but you pay him no mind. You won't let your brothers do something they will regret, to either of you.

The laugh Sam lets out in response to your effort is humourless. He continues to stride up to you as if he doesn't see you as any type of threat. He knocks your raised fists out his way then strikes you across your cheek with the back of his hand. You stumble onto the ground under the force of his hit.

In all the times you have spared with Sam, you always thought he was giving you his worst. He never took it easy on you or let you win. But, you now realize you have never felt the full extent of his strength until now. Your eyes water over despite your attempts to stifle the tears.

"Tit for tat," Sam spits at you as he sees the blood dripping from your broken lip.

Two rough hands pull you off the ground and you squeal in protest. You are back in Dean's arms but before you can fight him off he is pulling your bleeding lip into his mouth. You're not sure if it is a kiss or he is simply cleaning the blood off you.

With your copper on his tongue, Dean pulls away. "I knew you'd taste good," Dean smiles at you. He sucks his bottoms lip between his teeth as his eyes trail down your body to where your shirt is still ripped open.

You don't like the way he is looking at you so you stomp on his foot. But, he learned his lesson from the last time you tired kicking free. He doesn't let you go. He simply looks down at you. His eyes flash black as the skin around them tightens with anger.

Dean break his eye contact with you and looks over your shoulder to where John is making a ruckus. "What's that, John?" Dean pretends to understand his father's muted pleads. "You think our precious girl needs to be taught some manners? Well, if you insist!" Dean snarls at you before pushing you back until you land in John's lap.

You try getting up but Dean pushes on your shoulder to keep you down.

"I thought you were Daddy's good little girl? Good girls don't hit people," Sam mocks as he comes to see where his brother is taking this. "Stay still or we're going to have to punish you," he informs you.

"Fuck you!" you snarl at your brothers. You've had enough of their games.

Sam's face hardens and a strike of fear pulses through you at the change. He lunges forward and flips you so you are bent over John's knee. The armless chair he is strapped to makes it so your lower belly is pressed right against John's thighs. An uncomfortable position to say the least.

It only gets worse when you realize John has something hard in his pocket and it's poking you in the belly. Your hoping it is a gun or a knife, any kind of weapon you can use. But, the boys get tired of your squirming and tape your hands behind your back. So, you cannot reach under yourself to check what it is.

A pair of hands pull down your pants until they get stuck around your ankles thanks to your shoes getting in the way. You try to push off of John's lap but a firm hand in your hair holds you down. You try to wiggle for freedom but thick fingers start kneading your bottom and you still yourself out of fear. The fingers hook into the elastic waistband of your panties. In one swift motion, they meet your jeans around your ankles.

"No! Don't look away, Johnny." Dean's firm voice breaks the tense silence. John must have tried closing his eyes. His daughter is bare and bent over his knee. He is no doubt as uncomfortable as you are. "I want you to see how pretty she looks from this angle."

You squeeze your eyes shut in shame. You have never felt so exposed. Your father is being forced to witness your indignity. That only intensifies the humiliation.

A hard slap lands on your exposed ass and you lurch forward in surprise. You cry out in pain as another hit stings your other cheek. They don't stop until your ass is welted with fingerprints.

"Maybe if you spanked the little bitch when she was a kid, she would have learned her manners a long time ago. Then, we wouldn't be in this position right now." Dean addresses John.

"Dude, you've dying to get your belt on her for years. Don't act like this wasn't going to happen," Sam laughs. "It was always going to end up this way."

"B-Belt?" You ask through your sobs.

Neither brother replies. You just hear the sounds of each one unbuckling their belts and slipping it through their loops. In this position, you are helpless to move. The only thing you can do is lower your head and brace yourself.

A leather belt whips against you. You scream in pain and you feel John squirm underneath you. You assume he is still trying to break free and help you. Another blow lands across your already sore ass. It doesn't stop. With each hit, you feel your vision blacken. But you never slip into unconsciousness. You never find that kind of peace. You are forced to endure it all.

"Stop!" you shout over the sounds of your lashings. Your voice is broken and desperate but true. "I-I can't… I can't take anymore!" you plead. You know they have broken your skin. You can feel a trail of warm liquid running down your thighs. You can only imagine how much blood they left behind.

To your surprise, the boys actually lower their weapons. "You sure you want us to stop?" Dean asks. You can't see his face but you can hear the smile in his voice. "Because I don't think you do," Dean coos with a self-satisfied smirk.

He runs his hands through the wetness on your thighs. Dean follows the trail to its source. To your utter horror, you realize that liquid you felt wasn't blood. They hadn't even broken your skin. Dean's finger trials through your wetness that guides up to your pussy, not the beaten flesh of your ass.

"You see that, John? Your precious girl is dripping from her punishment. Maybe you really should have tried this sooner," Sam laughs as he steps in to put his hands on you as well.

Your face burns hot with shame. You want to deny the fact you liked getting whipped but the evidence is clear for everyone to see. The pain was unbearable, but oddly reassuring. You hate the thought that your body responded to them so easily.

You are broken out of your shame when you feel a finger circle your entrance. You're not sure who is belongs to. Does it even matter at this point? The finger slips inside and your body accepts it with ease. You whine at the intrusion.

The digit wiggles inside you and then pulls out. You whine again.

"Fuck! She's soaked," Dean says with an amused laugh. "I am so sorry! All this time we are teaching Y/N her manners and we have completely forgotten our own! I'm sorry, dad. How rude of us! Would you like a taste?"

For the first time, you lift your head and look over your shoulder. You were too scared to do it before. You didn't want to see the disgust your father's eyes. But your shock at Dean's words overrides your fear.

You take John in. His eyes are dark with anger and his chest heaves as his nostrils flare. He isn't looking at your face. His eyes are glued to where Dean is still playing your wet hole.

Sam rips the tape of John's mouth. You expected a string of threats, profanities, or even growls to come out of him when he was finally able to speak. But John stays dead silent. The intensity in his eyes is loud enough.

Dean pulls his finger out of you and admires its shine. He holds his finger up to John's lips. For an agonizing moment, John just stares at Dean's offering. Your eyes widen as John willingly opens his mouth and sucks your taste off Dean's finger.

You can't do anything but stare at your father blankly. John eyes close and the tension in his brows lessen. He moans and bites down over Dean's finger. That causes Dean to laugh and pull his hand away.

"Don't get too carried away, old man. Save it for the real thing," Dean teases.

The smile that spreads across John's face breaks your heart. He was supposed to be on your side. He was supposed to save you. He always saves you. But now, he is giving into his son's torture almost as easily as you did. He was supposed to be stronger than you.

You misunderstood. You mistook John's arousal for anger. You are on your own.

Sam is first to notice the defeat in your eyes. He smiles at that pretty sight. He picks you up off John's lap and throws you on the bed. He rids you of your torn and crumpled clothing that barely hangs off your body. You don't fight him. You don't see the point. The three men you trusted most in this world have worn down your ability to fight back.

You look back at John and realize that the hardness you felt beneath you was the outline of his bulging cock. John follows your gaze and shifts in his seat. He still won't look you in the eye.

Your brothers step into your eye line and hover over the bed you lay spread out on. You try to close your legs but each brother grabs and ankle and throws it over their shoulder as they move in. They each have broad shoulders and you can feel your muscles pull at being stretched so wide. But the fear and vulnerability outweigh the physical pain.

Each brother nips and kisses up your thigh. Once they reach your core, they each take a lip between their teeth and tug at your pussy. You try squirming your hips away but they bite your pussy harder until you scream and learn to stay still.

You hear more rustling coming from John. You have given up the hope that he is trying to save you. But you look over at him anyway, anything to distract yourself from your brothers' invasive tongues.

You can see the veins in John's arms bulge out as his muscles flex and he pulls against his restraints. The black t-shirt he is wearing tightens over his chest as his brawn is put on display. The tape that binds John's hands is torn by sheer force of will.

You whimper at the sight of your father's perseverance. He may actually try to save you after all. Your relief is cut short when John does not use his newfound freedom to undo the binds on his ankles. No, the first thing John does is undo his pants and free his steely cock.

"D-Daddy?" you ask in disbelief.

John finally looks you in the eye. He meets your gaze but you do not see the father you know and trust. You see the commander your brothers know and fear. "Lie back and take it, baby girl," John instructs you.

You sob at his betrayal.

You can feel Sam and Dean smirk against your pussy. They are amused by John's corruption. His demise was swift and simple. They didn't think it would be so easy. They didn't think he would turn on his precious girl so soon.

They always had suspicions that John's love for you wasn't simply driven by fatherly affection. But they are still surprised he cracked so quickly. He must want you more than the boys thought.

Their mission is complete. They broke John. They got him to unleash his hidden darkness. But it happened so easily, it was a little anticlimactic. So, the boys add a Phase Two to their plan. It's your turn. Now, they want to break you too.

If they break your spirit, strip you of all hope and dignity, you'll finally be a real Winchester.

John jerks his cock as he watches his sons eat you out. His boys have always had a competitive streak. But John never thought he'd be lucky enough to see them fight over your cunt. Sam sucks down over your clit and Dean tries to stick his tongue in your hole but Sam gets in his way.

"Dude, move your big head!" Dean barks at his brother.

Sam pops your clit from his mouth and rolls his eyes. "You could wait your fucking turn," Sam reminds his brother.

Dean's eyes flash black but before he can respond to his brother, John interrupts their moment.

"Idiots," he says under his breath as his wrist slows down.

"You got something to say?" Dean growls at the patriarch.

"You two are idiots," John repeats himself. "Get her on her knees, that way there is room for both of you. You two bitches are acting like you've never had a woman before."

Sam and Dean share a look. They hate the idea of listening to their father. They won't give him the satisfaction of obeying his instructions anymore. The boys are calling the shots from now on.

"Why don't you just sit back, shut your mouth, and enjoy the show. If you don't like what we do, you are more than welcome to show us how it's done afterwards," Dean challenges John. " If you can last that long, old man." The arrogant smile that spreads across Dean's face is something John as never seen from his eldest son. Dean is usually so obedient.

John keeps quiet but grinds his teeth.

During this whole exchange, you have been staring blankly at the ceiling. You are trying to wrap your mind around your reality. You can't understand how quickly your family brought on your demise.

The boys move out from between your legs. Dean grabs your hips and pulls you up into his arms. Dean's fingers fill your pussy as you watch as Sam undress. As Sam's toned back muscles ripple as he pulls off his shirt, your walls flutter around Dean. That does not go unnoticed.

"You like that? I knew you would. I've seen you watching Sam. I've seen you take peak when he would get changed. You stare just a little longer than a sister should," Dean whisper in your ear as his finger picks up the pace. "You're a sick little freak, aren't you?"

"Says the brother with his fingers inside of me," you sass the demon.

To your surprise, Dean doesn't get mad at your back talk. He simply laughs and bites your shoulder. "Must be genetic."

Sam gets himself fully naked and stands with pride. He lets his entire family take in his impressive length. Dean rolls his eyes, he knows Sam is proud of himself but thinks the showboating is unnecessary. However, you swallow thickly as your mouth inexplicably waters at the sight.

Sam lays on the bed and his hard cock bobs against his stomach. He intertwines his fingers and puts them underneath his head. Sam raises an eyebrow up at you.

Dean pulls his finger out of you and taps your bottom. "Time for a ride, baby sister." Dean's voice is jovial and carefree. The tone contrasts the fear brewing inside you.

You try backing away from the bed but Dean wraps an arm around your waist and lifts you off the ground. You kick against him as he puts you on Sam's lap. You are forced to straddle your brother with no clothing to act as a barrier.

Dean holds you still as Sam lines himself up. You let out one last desperate plea for this to end but it goes unanswered. Dean pushes on your shoulder and forces you to sink down onto Sam's waiting cock.

You scream as his girth tears up open. The scream turns into a strangled groan as the pain starts to intrigue you. Sex has never hurt you before, but a dark part of you like the newfound pain.

You hate that thought so you push it away. You don't like this. You don't want this. You have to remind yourself of those facts over and over or else you fear you'll forget them.

"Bounce for Sammy," Dean commands.

When you refuse to move, Dean leaves you for a moment. When he returns, he has the First Blade secured in his right hand. He puts the knife to your throat and presses until your skin threatens to break.

"For too long you have been given the luxury of choice. You always got to choose which motel bed you would take while Sammy or I took the floor. You always chose where we eat and where we go in our time off. But your era of choice has passed. You don't call the shots anymore. If I tell you to ride your big brother's cock, you will ride your big brother's cock." Dean is done playing around.

You nod your understanding. A tear falls down your cheek and splashes onto Dean's arm. He pulls his blade away for only a moment so he can lick up your salty submission.

He puts the knife back on your throat and guides you up and down Sam's entire length. You ride your big brother's cock at knife point. Sam watches you cry for him. Sam commits this sight to his spank bank for later.

"Fuck," Sam groans as he runs his hands up your thighs. "Make her go faster, Dean!" Sam grabs your hips with his bruising fingers and starts thrusting up into you when what you're doing isn't enough.

"You heard the man," Dean says as he takes the knife away and slaps your raw butt for encouragement. He knows he doesn't need the knife anymore, you will obey on your own. You are always so eager to please. You are always so desperate for your brothers' attention and approval. You just needed a nudge in the right direction.

You look over your shoulder to where John is pumping his cock furiously. He nods at you to do as your brothers tell you.

You lips quivers but you turn back to Sam. "Untie me," your voice is empty and defeated. You're not asking for freedom you are asking for the ability to gain momentum. Dean uses his knife to cut your binds.

You brace your hands on his chest and raise yourself up until only his tip is inside you. You slam back down with more force than anyone was expecting. The sound you pull from Sam is a mix of shock and ecstasy. You roll your hips and take his cock all the way in. You ride him as if your life depends on it, because you have a feeling it does.

You lean back and so your back is arched and your hands rests on Sam's shins. Sam watches your tits bounce as your hardened nipples point to the sky. At this angle, you have strength behind your movements. You drive Sam's cock inside of you with fever. You can feel him twitch inside you and you hope he cums soon so you can stop.

You hope he cums before you're forced to admit how good this feels. You hope he cums before you do. You don't want to give him the satisfaction.

The two youngest Winchesters put on a show for the two eldest. The softs grunts and moans that escape your lips contrast Sam's snarling groans.

Dean has undressed himself. He strokes his cock with one hand and clutches his precious blade with the other. The mark on his arm is screaming at him to cut you open and spill your blood. But his cock is screaming at him tear you open another way. The only urge stronger than Dean's need to kill, is Dean's need for pleasure.

Dean is at war with his two instincts. That is, until John's voice breaks through the battlefield and negotiates peace.

"Take her ass, son. Make it hurt." John doesn't know where his words are coming from. He loves his baby girl more than anything. But seeing you get worked over by your brothers fills John with something he didn't know he was missing. You let your deranged brothers escape the dungeon, you deserve to be punished for that.

Dean smiles at his father's compromise. Just this once he'll do as his father suggests.

"Sam has no soul. I got black eyes. What's your excuse?" Dean asks his father before stepping away to get back on the bed.

John doesn't let himself think of an answer. He stays focused on the wet sounds of Sam's cock sliding inside you.

Dean kneels behind you and bends you over so your cheek is pressed against Sam's chest. You feel Dean prod at your back entrance. You stay completely still and tense your body in anticipation. Dean spreads your bottom and sees where Sam's cock is still buried inside your cunt.

He gathers some of the oozing wetness and lubes up his own impressive length. It's not enough to make it easy for you but it is enough to get him inside.

Dean pushes his tip in but your hole fights him back. You know it is useless to protest verbally, so you protest with your body. But Dean doesn't like hearing or feeling your objection.

He gives you a sharp thrust and pushes in another inch or two despite the opposition. You cry out in pain.

Dean takes his knife and cuts into your lower back. His cock twitches as you scream a little louder for him. He lets your blood trickle down your body until it drips into your ass. Blood is not an effective lubricant and Dean knows it. But he doesn't care.

You always looked pretty in red.

Dean pushes in the rest of the way and keeps himself inside you until your ring of muscle calms down.

Dean grabs a hold of your hair and pulls your back up against his chest. Being filled with your brothers' two giant cocks makes it so you can almost taste their intrusion.

Sam smiles and looks up at Dean. "Dude, does her belly look a little bulged to you?" Sam asks already knowing the answer.

Dean looks down to where your lower belly is sticking out. You can feel how full you are but now both brothers can see the evidence. Dean rocks his hips and the boys watch as your stomach deflates then swells again. Dean's cock is so far up your ass his tip is poking your belly out.

Sam puts his hand over the bugle and feels Dean nudge your insides. The brothers have fun watching your body respond to their invasion. They almost forget that you are the one who must endure the feeling.

When you try swatting Sam's hands off you, Dean puts his knife back to your throat. This time he draws blood. The blood drips down your chest and Sam licks it off your breasts.

Dean continues to cut into you and Sam continues to lick you clean. You know Sam has a problem with demon blood. But, it now seems he just needs blood in general. This entire time, Dean has been rocking in and out of your torn ass at an agonizing pace. Meanwhile, you pussy has been warming Sam's cock as he holds your bulging belly and licks up your blood.

By the time Sam pulls away, his teeth and lips are red with your livelihood. His eyes are a shade darker than they were before. He fucks up into you at a sudden and rigorous pace.

Your cries get caught in your throat as your brothers abuse your holes. You have no more tears to give. Your upper body is cut up and raw. Your lower body is used and ravished. You wait for a numbness that never comes. You forced to endure ever moment in all its painful glory.

Dean throws his blade onto the bed so he can grab your hips with both hands. He pounds into you and claims your ass with dominating jabs.

Sam's face contorts and he bites his lip as his thrusts become more erratic. You squeeze your eyes shut and prepare for his explosion. A couple years ago, you found one of his old tube socks in the trash. You know how much cum Sam can give. You prepare yourself for it.

As expected, Sam shoots his endless load into your pussy. With brutal snaps of his hips, he fucks himself through his release. He buries his warm seed so far into your womb, you can feel it settle inside you.

Sam is loud when he cums. The grunting reminds you more of a feral animal than your usually soft-spoken brother. He sits up and bites down over your nipple as he finishes himself off.

Dean is quick to follow after he hears Sam holler his guttural release. Except, Dean doesn't cum in your ass. He pulls you off Sam's softening cock and flips you on your back. He shoves his cock into your oozing pussy and cums seconds later. He may have wanted to claim your ass, but he'd be damned if he let Sam be the only one to fill your snatch.

Dean looks you dead in the eyes as ropes of his cum fill our overused cunt. His eyes are the usual green colour again but they are missing their usual warmth.

Dean holds himself inside of you as you absorb all of his spunk. He never lets you break his gaze. He wants you to remember this moment. He wants you to remember the look on your eldest brother's face as his cock twitches to completion inside you. When he finally pulls out, you sigh with relief.

You never came. You pride yourself on your ability to fight off the pleasure that was itching to break free. You would hate yourself if you let your brothers make you cum. That humiliation would be too much to bear. But now that you are empty, you find yourself missing the fullness. You find yourself hating your own stubborn nature. You wish you had let yourself go. Now, you are left with that unscratched itch.

You may as well have let yourself get one good thing from their assault. But that moment has passed. Your brothers are getting dressed and grabbing their things.

"Where the fuck do you think you two are going?" John asks as he finally frees his ankles from the chair. He stands up and tucks his still hard cock back into his jeans.

Dean lets out an impressed laugh. "I didn't think your old ass would have been able to last." Dean teases his father when he sees John's cock is still hard as rock. "I hope your stamina is genetic. I'm going to need that shit when I am your age," Dean quips.

"Where the fuck do you think you two are going?" John asks again ignoring Dean's comments. "You can just leave her like this! You two couldn't even make her cum," John sounds more annoyed than angry.

You stare at John in disbelief one last time. That is what he is upset about?

"Relax, we'll be back eventually. We aren't done with your princess yet," Sam assures John.

Sam and Dean thought about killing you. They instead decided that a better punishment would be to keep you on the line. They'll keep you as their demoralized and dehumanized toy. Their whole lives, John raised his sons to believe that you were worth more than them. So, their best retribution is to make you believe you are worth nothing. You are nothing more than a familial flesh light that they play with whenever they are in town.

You wince in pain as you try to sit up.

Dean slaps Sam's shoulder. "Does she still look a little bulged out to you?" He asks his younger brother.

Dean and Sam walk back over to the bed and you scramble backwards. Dean grabs your ankles and pulls you closer to the edge. You kick at your brother but his grip is firm. Dean holds your knees apart and puts your leaking pussy on display. You turn your head in shame. You have no choice but to accept further embarrassment.

Sam reaches down and pushes on your protruding belly. The pressure causes a rush of their cum to spurt out of you.

Each brother laughs.

"Guess we filled her up good," Dean smirks with pride and he watches their mixed seed flow out of you.

Sam runs his finger through your soaking folds and your legs twitch in response. He scoops up the mix of cum onto his finger. He puts the wetness to your lips. When you refuse to open your mouth, he grabs your jaw. As you cry out in pain, Sam slips his finger past your lips. He forces you to lick him clean as he feeds you their cum.

"See you next time, princess," your brothers say as they slip out of the motel room with utter triumph on their faces.

You turn to your father as fresh tears pool in your eyes. You thought you were all cried out but apparently not.

"How could you just let them go?" you shout with betrayal. "How could you let them do that to me?" Your voice is angry but also laced with lonely despair.

"Quiet!" John shouts back at you. He has never used such a harsh tone with you.

You instantly clamp your mouth shut.

"They had to leave. You wouldn't want them to see what happens next." John stalks toward your bed. "It's Daddy's turn."


	14. Demon in the sack (DeanReader)

Demon in the Sack

**Summary:The new girl in town gets more than she bargains for when she encounters a bad boy drifter at the bar.**

You feel so stupid being at the bar alone. It's been a long time since you've been with a man, and you're new in town. Back at home, you always went out with a group of your friends. In groups, you feel more comfortable with that buffer, and now you're feeling vulnerable.

You nervously twirl a strand of your hair. You take a sip of the appletini that you haven't let out of your sight since you ordered it. Your eyes cautiously decide to scan the bar scene for any promising prospects.

Then, from across the pool table, he catches your eye. He has a haircut you can set your watch to. You can picture yourself running your fingers through that perfectly short brown hair of his. The man's skin is lightly tanned, and his face has a five o'clock shadow. His eyes are a hypnotic shade of green. He's wearing a dark brown leather jacket that's unzipped, a cotton, slim-fitting gray shirt with four buttons at the top, blue jeans, and boots with laces. He looks like a male model with a bad boy edge. You have never seen anyone like him, and you can't help but stare as he shoots pool. He's skilled, and he wins the game. A burly, bald, biker man with a beard loses. He swears and hands over fifty bucks to the handsome man.

The handsome man looks up and flashes you a grin that makes your heart beat faster. For fraction of a second, his green eyes seem to change to black. You think it's strange but chalk it up to being a trick of the light. The handsome man struts up to your table. He places his hand down on the wooden surface.

"Hey baby. You like what you see? 'cause I sure as hell do," he flirts, leaning in close to you. Perhaps he's trying to get a better look down your little black dress.

You uncross your legs and cross them again and down the rest of the appletini. "Y-Yeah! Uh, I don't really know much about pool, but you must be really good!" you stammer. You wish you could have said something more impressive, but it's pretty damn impossible with this hot guy leering at you.

The man lets out a bark of a laugh. "I'm Dean. Lemme buy you another drink."

"O-Okay, Dean!" Another drink may be helpful in putting an end to the way your voice is shaking. "I was, uh, having an a-appletini."

"Cute. Good choice. Y'know, I just love me some apple pie." Dean pats you on the shoulder and saunters to the bar. You watch the entire time. He returns with another appletini for you and a glass of whisky for himself.

"Wow. Y-You like drinking your liquor straight, Dean?" you ask. "I hope you're not driving tonight..."

Dean just laughs. "I got a pretty sweet set up nearby. I have to pay rent by the hour," he jokes, and you immediately know he's referring to that dive motel that's just up the street. "How about you? You live nearby, baby?"

You nod your head, some hair falling into your face. Your face is a dark shade of red, as you can imagine the kind of things that go on in such a sleazy place. "U-Uh-huh! On the other side of the tracks, though. A, um...one-bedroom apartment. Not much, but it's home." You take a sip of your drink.

"Well, y'know what they say about home, baby. It's where the heart is!" Dean laughs.

You feel like you might have imagined it, but there seemed to be a bitterness to his voice when he said that. Maybe he never has had a home. You decide against asking.

Dean knocks back the glass of whisky like it's nothing. He doesn't even cough as the liquor burns down his throat. Perhaps he's gotten used to that burn over the years. Maybe he drinks because he needs to drink. All sorts of things are running through your head about him, but you're just too shy to ask. There's something intimidating about Dean, yet there's more. He's definitely got a charm about him, one that keeps you interested.

Dean leans in close on his elbows. He tucks the hair that's fallen into your face behind your ear. He brings his big, strong hand forward and strokes your chin. Without delay, he fluidly moves in close, tilting his head as he brings his lips to yours. You gasp with surprise, and he takes your open mouth as an invitation, making his tongue at home. The whisky is strong on his breath. You have never kissed a stranger before in your whole life, but you somehow can't bring yourself to say no. You close your eyes, relaxing into the kiss that Dean controls, his other hand rubbing your shoulder.

When he pulls back, you feel like your lungs could explode. You feel breathless and light-headed as your eyes flutter open. "D-Dean..."

"What'd you say we go back to your place, baby? I'd just love to howl at the moon with you."

Your heart feels like it's going to beat out of your chest. Part of you feels like this could be a bad idea, and the other part of you wants nothing more than to give in. After all, you could do a lot more than kiss if there weren't all these prying eyes. You quickly down the rest of your appletini and nod to him, taking a deep breath before speaking. "Yeah. Sure, let's do it."

It's pretty hard to run in heels, but you manage a quick pace with Dean's arm fitted snug against your waist, feeling like he would never let you fall somehow. You can't help but think how hard his body is and how good he smells. It makes you feel like a freak, but maybe that's what tonight is all about.

Your hands are shaking as you take out the keys from your purse to open up the door to your apartment. You make your way in fast, and your hand shyly grips Dean's, tugging him along and beckoning him inside. Dean kicks the door shut behind you.

Suddenly, Dean charges at you, slamming you into the nearby wall. You groan, the sensation hurting your back. You realize you may have just let in a bad boy who likes it rough. He keeps your shoulders pinned and kisses you hard. His hands trail down to your waist and then to your hips. Dean grinds his hips into yours, and you can feel his budding hard-on poke you in the thigh through the fabric of his jeans.

This boy is all hands. He's hungry for more. He brings his hands back up again and pushes the spaghetti straps of your little black dress all the way down. Dean is merciless as he kisses down your neck, assaulting the thin skin with hard kisses. He pushes the dress down further, revealing your strapless bra. It seems like he just rips it off, because in the next second it's gone. You let out a mewl, your hands gripping onto his short hair, but it slips through your fingers. You settle on gripping his shoulders instead.

Dean starts sucking on your neck, rolling the thin skin between his sharp teeth as he bites down. You may have just met him, but he seems to have plans of already trying to claim you. It hurts so good. You throw your head back against the wall, letting out a rather lewd sounding moan.

Dean pulls back just enough to admire his handiwork, his gaze boring into yours. A dark bruise is already forming against the side of your neck. "I like when you moan like a whore. Let's see what other sounds I can get out of you."

You're not sure how to feel about his choice of words. You find "whore" pretty derogatory. However, there is no denying how you are yearning for more. Your entire body is hot. Everywhere his mouth touches tingles. There also is that distinct tingling between your thighs. The cotton fabric of your lacy Victora's Secret panties clings to you. You are soaked from the attention that Dean has already paid you. In no time flat, the side of your neck is covered in five hickeys. He trails down, not overlooking your collarbone. A mixture of hard kisses, biting and sucking ensues. There are now a couple of more marks to match the ones on your neck, divided on the left and right side of your collarbone.

Dean yanks your little black dress down the rest of the way, and it gathers at your ankles. He kisses down your neck, mapping his way down to your breasts. Dean sucks down hard on your nipple, which draws a moan out of you. You grasp tightens on his shoulders. Dean alternates sucking on each one, making them become hard from arousal. However, when he adds biting to the mix, it's too rough to feel good.

"Ah, aaah! Dean, careful with your teeth!" you cry.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean replies. He goes back to kissing and hard sucking. You relax as he takes it easy on you, but then he reverts to his old ways. He bites down on your left nipple and tweaks the right with his hand, twisting it. You let out a whimper, white-hot pain shooting through your body. It's crazy, the alternating sensations between being rough and gentle turns you on.

You decide to be a little rough yourself. "Two can play at that game." Your hands move from his shoulders to his chest. You pinch both his nipples just as hard as he pinched yours.

Dean lets out a grunt. "Bad girl." Now a game between the two of you is beginning. "Bad girls aren't allowed to use their hands."

"Catch me if you can!" You push past him and squeeze by, getting a running start. A game of cat and mouse unfolds. Unfortunately, you get trapped in the kitchen by the counter. Dean is blocking the only way out. Dean catches your wrist from behind. He pulls you close to his body. You can feel his erection press into the small of your back and his hot breath down your neck.

"Aw, baby. You're gonna learn what I do to bad girls like you. I was being nice," Dean hisses in your ear. It sends shivers down your spine. Your heart's pounding faster than ever.

The thought of being punished excites you. "Are you gonna teach me a lesson? You know bad girls don't go down easy." You start squirming against his firm grasp. The reality is that you couldn't get away even if you wanted to. Not that you want to. Tonight, you're his bad girl.

Dean lets out a sinister laugh. "Yeah, that's just what I'm gonna do, bitch." One of his strong hands grips your shoulder and the other tugs your panties down. You realize he has plans of bending you over and fucking you from behind right on the counter.

"Oh, yeah? That what you're gonna do, you animal?"

Suddenly, Dean shoves you forward with blunt force. You let out a cry as your head slams against the counter. Whether it was intentional or not, it's lights out for you.

Upon opening your eyes, you feel dizzy and disoriented as you come to. You try to move your hands, but you realize they are bound to the bedpost. Upon glancing up, you discover that you have been tethered by one of your scarfs. You're in a sitting position, back propped against the pillows of your bed. The only thing you're wearing is your birthday suit, and there is a buzzing sensation between your thighs. Glancing down, you see how Dean has helped himself to one of the toys in your bedside drawer; your silver bullet vibrator is hitting your clit. The feeling draws a sharp moan from you, and you shiver as electric waves of pleasure run down your spine.

"Good to see you're awake," Dean says with a devious smirk plastered on his lips. He's stationed on the foot of the bed, watching you. He looks pretty proud of himself. He is now free of all of his clothes. The lighting in the bedroom is dim, but you're able to take his entire body in. He is the most fit man you've ever seen. You wish your hands were free so you could touch those washboard abs. Your eyes scan down and take note of the tattoo just below his neck—some kind of black pentagram with a fiery looking circle around it. Your gaze also notes a strange mark on Dean's forearm. It's red, almost L-shaped, with two shorter lines beside it. You're not sure if it's a burn or a birthmark, but you're not really in the position to ask.

"How bad do you want my cock?" Dean asked, scooting up to sit between your legs. He placed a hand on your thigh, being eerily gentle to how he was in comparison to before. Maybe he wasn't always a bad boy. Your leg twitches under his big, strong hand, the constant pulse of the vibe making you close to the point of no return.

Swallowing back a moan, you find your voice. "You're an asshole. My head hurts," you laugh. "You should really be more careful."

"Baby, you can't still be mad at me from before. That was an accident," Dean claims. He leans in, kissing just above your eyebrow where your head was injured. "Just a little goose egg. You'll be fine."

You shiver again. As you squirm from the shockwave of pleasure, the vibe falls from between your legs and onto the sheets. The vibrator tickles your inner thigh, but you can think better now that it's not directly on your clit.

Dean cups your cheek. It seems like some form of comfort or an apology, but you aren't sure. With his arm so close, the strange burn or birthmark is now in your range. You sink your teeth into it, eyes ablaze as you look up at him. Despite being hurt, you still want it rough.

Dean groans from the bite before smirking. "Guess it's back on. This is a no strings attached kind of night." Dean picks of the silver bullet and presses it flush against your clit. He uses the remote attached to turn up the intensity to the max.

"Ah! Aaaaah!" Your whole body is sent into spastic motions as you have a very intense orgasm. It feels like you've just been struck by lightning. The pleasure overwhelms you from head to toe. Your eyes shut and your mouth hangs open as you take quick breaths. You writhe against the bounds of your scarf, wishing your hands could grip onto something. At the very least, the cotton scarf is pretty soft, which should prevent any kind of rope burn.

"There. Now that's a happy face," Dean teases, the smirk remaining in place on his lips. He leers down at you, pleased with how blissed out you look in this exact moment. He thrusts two fingers deep inside your soaked cunt, pushing them in all the way to his knuckles. He likes how tight you are as your muscles finish contracting.

"Oh, mmh…" It's all but impossible to form clear words, and you instinctively start to rock against his fingers. Your breathing and heart rate starts to return to normal, although it's starting to feel a bit uncomfortable with the vibe still on you.

Dean hovers over your body and straddles your hips. Thanks to the scarf, you're unable to move. He leans in very close to your face. "I think you were made for me to fuck you." He brings his mouth to yours in a hard kiss, biting down on your lower lip before invading your mouth with his tongue. You squirm beneath him, groaning. His erection, which has been pretty neglected due to circumstances outside of your control, pokes you right in the thigh.

You jerk your head back enough to speak, panting. "Dean… Nnhhh… Take that off of me." You always feel hyper sensitive after an orgasm, and the prolonged vibration is starting to hurt.

"Bad girls need to be punished. How about you stop worrying about yourself and start worrying about me?" Without further ado, he gets to his feet on your bed, lining his dick up to your swollen lips. Dean grabs a fistful of your hair. He yanks your face forward, earning a pained whimper from you. The scarf tied on your wrists tightens from the force of Dean's pull, and it feels like its tight enough to cut off your circulation.

Dean shoves his entire length into your mouth. You gag around it, as you feel the tip coming into contact with the back of your throat. You're unable to pull away with the hold he has on your hair, and the vibrator's once pleasant vibrations now irritate you. Dean is merciless as he starts to thrust his hips, moving fast. He buries himself in your warm mouth each and every time, causing you to gag more. It feels like you can't even breathe, and your lungs are on fire. Your eyes start to water as you choke on his cock. You turn your gaze up to Dean's face, seeing how his eyes are glazed in a sick, twisted pleasure. He almost doesn't look human.

"That's it. You take it, baby," Dean moans. He finally pulls back, and you take in huge breaths, wanting to fill your lungs with precious air. By this point, Dean's cock is rock hard and coated in your saliva. "Oh, yeah…" Dean sighs, staring you down. A shiver runs down your spine, and you don't know whether to attribute it to terror or pleasure. "Now the real fun begins."

Dean gets down on his knees in front of you. At long last, he shoves the vibrator out of the way, and it lands on the floor unceremoniously, still buzzing in full force. Dean puts his strong hands on your hips, gripping them to the point of pain. He hoists your lower half off of the bed. Another whimper leaves your lips against your will. Without any protection, Dean slams into your wet pussy all at once.

"AAAAAH!" Your loud yelp fills the room, sounding off in both your ears and Dean's. Your whole body shakes like an earthquake with a magnitude of ten. It burns but feels good, his cock filling you. Your inner walls spasm around him, and you almost feel like you could come again.

"Shhh…" Dean hushes, running a calloused fingertip over your lips before returning his hand to your hips. He starts fucking you at a relentless pace. A smacking sound can be heard every time he crashes his hips into yours. It burns and hurts like hell at first, but once you start to get used to his rhythm, it starts to actually feel good. Softer sounds escape your mouth, the pain transforming into pleasure. You feel like the dirtiest girl in the world as you begin to rock back into his thrusts.

Dean squeezes down on your ass, and his fingernails dig into your flesh. You groan at the pain, but you know you can take it. He holds you up with one hand; the other reaches towards your breasts. He slaps them around, causing a sharp, prickling sensation on your chest.

"Whore! You like that, whore? I can tell by how wet you are!" Dean cackles. "C'mon! Wrap your legs around me!"

Your eyes grow wide at the idea, and now it's clear that Dean has absolutely no plans of pulling out. Luckily, you don't have to worry about pregnancy since you're on the pill, but it's still risky behavior. It wasn't smart, but you want it. You obey, your legs locking Dean in tight.

He rams you at just the right angle, hitting your sweet spot. It causes your entire body to tremble worse, and you let out sharp wail. "Dean! Dean, right there!" you beg, delirious from pleasure.

Even though you're a bad girl, Dean obliges and doesn't deny you pleasure. He is relentless with each and every thrust. "Dean! Oh, oh…!" It's not long before you come a second time. You wrap your legs around him even tighter, and your eyes squeeze shut. Your toes curl as the pleasure washes over you, hips swinging back into his at the speed of light. Ironically, you feel like you're in heaven at this moment, though your behavior's more hell-bound. Your pussy is a vice around his cock, muscles clenching down.

"Fuck! Baby!" Dean comes in tandem. You open your eyes to watch the look on his face. For a moment, you swear his eyes flash black again, but then they're closed too fast for you to get a proper look. His body has broken out in a light sheen of sweat. His face looks softer with his immense pleasure. Now he's human again. You barely know him, yet you feel closer to him in this moment. You shudder at the sensation of him bursting inside of you. The rush of cum is warm, and the pulsing of his dick is better than any vibrator. You can't help but feel full and complete.

"That's my girl," Dean praises as he slips out of you. He releases your hips, which have crescent-shaped marks on them from his nails, and your ass touches the bed. Gravity sends his excess cum to the sheets, making a sticky mess pool around your thighs. He's wearing that debonair grin from back at the bar. He cups your cheek, being tender now. "You're a real piece of work letting a strange man into your house."

"I just couldn't resist you. You're not like other guys," you say with a grin. "I swear, you're the Devil himself, Dean."

Dean laughs and rewards you with a kiss. "Now are you gonna be a good girl and play nice with your hands?"

"For you, I'd sell my soul," you joke.

Dean undoes the knot and lets your hands loose. You rub your sore wrists and regard him. Dean lets out another laugh. "Be careful what you say. It just might come true."

"Yeah, as if," you snort. You wish Dean would stay a while, but he's already out of bed and putting his pants on. Somehow, you suspect it's not in the bad boy's nature to cuddle.

"That was fun." He dresses fast while you just sit there. "We'll have to do this again if I ever see you around."

The next day, you're hobbling into the office. In an attempt to hide all the marks, you're wearing a long-sleeved turtleneck. It doesn't matter that it's the beginning of August and eighty degrees outside. Coworkers give you strange looks, but they don't know. They couldn't possibly ever know about the best night of your life with the demon in the sack.


	15. heatwave sam winchester

Heatwave

Sam/Reader

It was four in the morning and Sam was dead to the world. He had been up late the night before cramming for a test. For some reason his phone kept ringing. He tried to ignore it, but after about the seventh time it woke him up he figured someone probably needed something important.

"Hello?" His voice was rusty with sleep.

"... Sam... Help me, please..."

"Y/N?" He sat up, the agony in his best friend's voice jolting him awake. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

"I don't know, Sam... maybe appendix. It hurts so much... Help me...I need a hospital..." You pleaded, the pain infusing every syllable. He kept the phone to his ear, pulling jeans over his boxers and shoving his feet into sneakers without bothering with socks.

"I'm on my way. Stay on the phone." He knew you weren't in class yesterday, you texted him you were getting a fever. He offered to bring you soup but you asked him to stay away. He had important tests coming up and you didn't want him to catch your illness.

He didn't want to wait for the elevator so he ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, to the floor above. He stopped at the end of your hallway and was slammed with a wall of utter confusion.

Omega. Omega in heat.

He shook his head, trying to clear it and took a few steps toward your door. "Y/N, I'm coming. I'm almost there."

He only got a couple more steps when he heard your scream, on his phone and from your apartment. And at the same instant, the scent of desperately needy Omega quadrupled.

He fought his Alpha instincts and gritted his teeth. He didn't understand what was happening. Omegas were rare and he would have known if one was anywhere in the building, let alone on your floor. He spent hours in your apartment, sometimes overnight. Cramming for tests, movie and pizzas, board games with your mutual friends. He would have scented it long before now.

You groaned in pain and the sound was like a knife to his gut.

"Sam... I feel like I'm on fire..." Your voice was fading and it terrified him. Your breath coming in audible gasps over his phone.

He walked purposefully toward your door, hating how he lost control of his Alpha side a little more with each step. But he pushed through it. He had to get to you. You were his best friend.

By the time he got to your door he was blinded by the scent of needy Omega. His entire body was tense in response, his pants felt like they would burst at any moment. It took everything in him to ignore it all. He hung up his phone.

"Y/N, I'm here. Can you open your door?" He asked through gritted teeth.

You were incapable of answering. For some reason you didn't understand the pains in your pelvis just kept getting worse. Your fever felt impossibly high. All you could do was tear weakly at your clothes and make little helpless whimpering sounds, curled in a ball on your living room floor.

You heard Sam slam his hand against the door, and then he growled in a rough voice that was unmistakably him but the tone one you had never heard from him before. "Omega..."

The puzzling word growled in his voice made everything so much worse. The fever rose even higher and the cramps in your pelvis redoubled. You were in so much pain you started to cry. You finally managed to get your pajama pants off and you found it eased the pain slightly if you laid on your stomach and brought your knees up. It was still torturous, but the position at least felt... right. You were grateful for the moment of relief.

Sam was able to clear his head briefly. "Y/N, what is going on?..." His voice went quiet as he asked, "Are you Omega?"

You just whimpered, not understanding what he was talking about.

"Um... How about this. Have you recently stopped any medication?"

What a strange question to ask when you were laying here with your appendix bursting and your body going septic. But... Come to think of it, you had just run out of the vitamins your parents had insisted you take religiously for years.

"Answer me." Another growl. You felt compelled to obey.

"Vitamins. Parents. Since I was 17. Ran out. Got gummies..." You had replaced them with gummy multi vitamins, thinking it wasn't a big deal. You were obviously very wrong.

Sam did the math in his head. You had been on suppressants and scent blockers for four years. With no breaks, obviously, since you didn't even know you were Omega. No wonder this heat was brutal. And it was going to get worse without an Alpha.

He didn't want to be the one to betray your trust, your friendship was too important to him. He considered calling one of his Alpha friends, and immediately dismissed the notion with a possessive growl.

"Y/N... I'm going to help you. Um... Full disclosure... You will probably hate me later, which would really suck because I'm kind of in love with you. Have been for a while. So..."

"Just fucking help me!" You screamed, the pains starting to worsen again, despite the modified downward dog.

On your next scream of tearing agony your door burst inward. You were vaguely aware of the broken door being wedged back into place and your body being easily lifted in strong, familiar arms. You instinctively began rocking your hips against him, biting whatever bare patches of skin you could find, shivering when your actions drew low growls from his massive chest.

You landed on the bed, face down and your underwear was ripped from your body. You assumed the position from the living room and this earned you a rumbling purr. Your thighs were hot, wet and sticky and your center ached, hungry and begging.

Sam your friend took a back seat to Sam your Alpha. He pressed two of his large fingers inside you, testing your readiness and you both groaned. His attentions eased your pain a bit, but it wasn't quite what you needed. You worked your hips against his hand as his other hand made quick work of his pants, boxers and shoes, he was relieved when the irritating fabric was gone.

His fingers were removed and you whimpered at their loss, but they were soon replaced by his tongue. You felt him moan at the taste of you, and his tongue was amazing. He pressed it to your clit and you saw stars. But still it wasn't what you needed most from him.

Something deep and primal inside of you gave you the words, and you uttered them in desperation. "Alpha, please..."

He growled fiercely and without preamble you were being filled, inch by inch, by his massive turgid cock. When the tip of him hit your cervix and his hips bumped against your ass you moaned in relief. The absence of the painful spasms was its own kind of ecstasy and your body went boneless beneath him.

His Alpha purred, pleased with your total submission. He rewarded you by starting to thrust in and out of you slowly. You moaned, the pleasure of relief from pain paling in comparison to this sweet bliss.

You weren't a virgin, but you felt as if he were your very first taste of something raw and powerful. Your flushed cheek pressed against the cool fabric of your pillow and you trusted him, completely, to take care of you.

He was so unlike your best friend, grunting and growling, primal and possessive. But he was still very much Sam. Being so careful and gentle. Still firmly in control. You wanted him wild inside you. Untamed.

"Sam... Alpha... please..."

He purred again, the low grumbling vibrations combined with his slow thrusts making you squirm with joy.

"Tell me... Omega... Tell me what you need."

"Fuck me, Alpha. Hard. Please..."

He whimpered with need and his cock became even harder inside you. You felt teeth on your shoulder and it was strangely the most erotic thing you had ever experienced. He proceeded to slam into you, big hands gripping your hips with crushing strength, his thrusting pelvis driving your shoulders firmly into the mattress, over and over again.

Low moans came from your chest. You were helpless, submissive, pinned. And you fucking loved it. You had no choice but to take him, deep and hard and fast. He seemed to fit you almost perfectly, though the fit was tight. With each push into you he hit hidden parts of you that made you gasp and tremble.

Before very long you felt yourself coiling tighter and tighter. "Ohh Alpha... Sam..."

He reached around you, brushed two fingers against your clit, and whispered roughly into your ear- "Come for me, little Omega. Come all over your Alpha's cock."

You screamed your release, your fluids gushing over his hips and down your legs. Your walls clenching him tightly, trying to take him over the edge with you. He roared and you felt his cock swell as he started to come violently inside you. And it didn't stop swelling.

You felt your pussy being stretched impossibly wide and he kept getting bigger. It felt right, like something you needed. But at the same time you started to panic, wondering if it would ever stop, half convinced he was killing you somehow.

Strong arms held you still. "Shh, Y/N... Do you trust me?" His voice was strained as he continued to empty inside you. But the voice was Sam. Your Sam. He would never hurt you. You nodded.

He groaned as his climax slowly ebbed, but still he didn't let you go. You felt so much better now, your fever was gone. The pain was gone. You felt stretched and crammed full, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant.

Sam very carefully shifted you both so you were laying on your sides, but he still didn't let you go.

"Sam... What's happening?" Your voice was sleepy and sated.

He thought about how to explain it to you, angry with your parents for keeping you in the dark. What if he hadn't been here? What if another alpha had been? He stifled a growl.

"You're a biology major..."

"Yeah, which is why I'm confused as to what the hell is going on. Why are you stuck in me?"

He chuckled. "Do you know what knotting is? Like... Like with dogs."

This answer only caused more confusion and a hundred more questions. He was very patient and explained everything to you. He was pretty sure you wouldn't get pregnant since you got the contraceptive shot like clockwork every three months. Oh, and by the way, your heat wasn't over, it was just temporarily satisfied. You had three or four whole days every single month to look forward to this. You had been on blockers for too long for them to be safe anymore. Great.

Every month, though, he was there with you. He took care of you through your heat. He fed you, bathed you, mated you endlessly.

And your first heat after you graduated you claimed each other, carrying the scars proudly.

And binding yourselves together for life.


	16. Control (John WinchesterReader)

Control

Summary:After almost dying on a hunt John needs to show you who is in control.

Relationship: John Winchester/Reader

"Stop! John." You tugged at your wrist, hoping to pull it from his grasp. "You're hurting me."

He sunk his fingers deeper into your arm, ignoring your protests.

"I know I fucked up, but I'm alive. We're alive." You tried to twist your elbow, but you knew struggling would make it worse. "Please, don't be mad at me. This hurts!"

John got the key into the door of the motel room you were sharing and kicked it open. He yanked you inside causing you to cry out. In a single motion, he threw you against the wall and moved his hand around your throat as he slammed the door with the same foot he used to open it.

"THIS HURTS?" His eyes were wild with anger and his chest was thumping as his breathing increased. "You're lucky you can feel fucking pain after the shit you just pulled. We almost died Y/N."

You brought your hands up to his wrist now and tried to pry it off of your neck, he ignored your protest and squeezed, cutting off your airway and ability to speak. It was a careless mistake, but if you wanted to be a hunter you needed to stop making them. Your eyes started to water and there was no way to tell if they were from the guilt at letting your mentor down or the fear that he was about to kill you for your error.

"This is my fault too." His eyes continued to rage and his hand squeezed tighter. "Maybe I need to find a better way to get through to you, to make you understand, to teach you."

John brought his other hand to your waist and spun you around as he released the grip on your neck. You started to cough and take in as much air as you could, your hands bracing the wall. It burned, and you couldn't exhale enough before pulling in another gasp. You should apologize, but every time you tried to speak another cough came out. The pain in your lungs was so distracting you didn't realize what John was doing.

SMACK! A sting exploded across your ass. You sucked in the air and tried to scream at the same time. Instincts kicked in and you looked behind, but John grabbed your shoulder and moved forward, pinning your body to the wall, with his own. Then you felt the roughness of his jeans on your rear and looked down to see your pants and underwear around your ankles.

"What the fuck?" You tried to slide to the side, but he gripped you in place.

"I'm the one in control here Y/N." His fingers dug into your shoulder as his free hand moved between your bodies. "If you want to survive this life you need to give all the power to me. I've tried to teach you this, but you don't seem to comprehend."

The sounds of his zipper going down made your heart race. He wouldn't. Not John. You tried to push back again, but he slammed your body forward, moving one foot in between your legs and kicking your ankles to the side. Your legs spread, even if you wanted to shut them the awkward bunching on your pants made that impossible.

"Why can't you ever listen?" He bent down and you felt the tip of his cock at your entrance.

"John, No. Please!" You started moving your hands along the wall as if you could find some secret escape. "I'll listen. I'll be good. I promise."

"I know you will." He pushed forward.

You screamed, even though you couldn't see his cock there was no doubt it was sizeable. The suddenness of his entry gave your body no time to prepare making the experience even more uncomfortable. You went up on your tip toes to try and get away, but John's hand wrapped around your waist and held you still.

"I don't know how else to get you to listen." He pushed upward and pulled your body down at the same time.

"Ahhh!" Tears stung your eyes. "John it hurts! Please stop!"

"This isn't about pain Y/N." His grip on you relaxed and he slid his hand to your center, then moved downward until the tips of his fingers found your clit. He started rubbing in small circles. "This is about getting you to understand who is in charge."

You gasped as he started to work your bundle of nerves. You didn't want to respond to his touch, not like this, but your body had other ideas. You went to push his hand away but stalled, if you were successful he wouldn't pull his cock out of you and it would only make the situation that much more painful. At least the stimulation would make it easier to take him.

"Good girl." He pushed deeper and your body already started to take him easier. "You're understanding already."

His other hand went to the neck of your flannel shirt. John gripped the collar and yanked down. All of the buttons went flying off, bouncing off the wall and the floor. He tugged the shirt off your shoulders and you pushed your arms back as the garment fell to the floor. Then he undid the clasp of your bra and palmed your mound. In a moment his fingers started teasing your nipple, tugging and rolling on the small bud.

John gave a grunt and his cock slid in further. There was a still a burning sensation, making you cry out and fall forward. You tried to brace the wall with your hands again as he sunk in deeper.

"You should have listened to me Y/N." He put more pressure on your clit. "Then this wouldn't be happening to you right now. We could be celebrating instead."

His words stung, how was this your fault? A minute ago you were sure he was going to kill you, but now his cock was impaling you without your consent. The need to stand up for yourself kicked back in.

"Fuck you." You looked over your shoulder.

The anger in John's eyes returned. He dropped your breast and wrapped his hand around your hair, exposing your neck to him again.

"I guess you still haven't learned, you sorry little girl." He slammed his dick all the way inside of you and he jerked your hair hard.

You felt like you were split in two, unsure how your body was accommodating a man of his size. Before you could react he pulled out of you and thrust forward at full force. There still wasn't enough lubrication to make the effort painless and you sobbed.

John's fingers continued to rub and tease your clit as his cock moved in and out of you. Every entrance was easier to take than the previous, but tears still stung your eyes.

"Are you sorry now baby girl?" John's mouth was right next to your ear. "Are you willing to admit who is in charge?"

"Yes, I'm sorry." You closed your eyes and he pulled on your hair. "You're in charge!"

"Good girl." John let go of your head and it fell forward against the wall.

He repositioned his hand at your hip and dug his fingers in and he started to pummel in and out of you. There was no doubt your body was ready and enjoying this now. His pace was almost inhuman. The speed of his cock and the pressure from his fingers was too much and you started to come undone. A moan escaped your lips and you started rocking in rhythm with the man as best you could, pushing against the wall to feel him slide in even deeper.

"I'm such a good fucking teacher, I still make sure you're enjoying this." John's breath was heavy. "Who's in control Y/N?"

"You are." There was no hesitation at your response.

The pressure from John's fingers lightened and you let out a whimper.

"WHO?"

"John Winchester!" You moaned. "John Winchester is in control!"

"That's right baby girl." He put his finger back and pushed down hard, almost flicking your clit.

That was all it took as the freight train of your orgasm came hurdling forward. Your head fell forward against the wall as John went even faster, making the effects intensify.

"I'm going to cum inside you. Deep inside you." John moved his hand from your clit and grabbed on to the other side of your hip. "And you're going to get on that fucking bed and lay there, legs in the air, help my guys swim."

You didn't want to get pregnant. How could you be a hunter then? You were about to protest when John leaned over you.

"If you won't fucking listen then at least you can be good for something and give me a child who might pay attention." He pulled you back against him and his cock exploded inside of you.

You tried to comprehend his words, but your head was swimming. His back was over yours and you realized John never bothered to undress before taking you. It made you feel small and unequal. Of course, you were, he was in charge after all.

John's hands went under your knees and lifted you in the air, his cock still very much inside of you. He set you on all fours on the bed, before pulling out slowly. An ache went through your core, making you whimper, your body reminding you how rough he was at the start.

He guided you to your side and back, before lifting your knees up and placing a pillow under your ass. Barely any of his white juices fell out of you, instead, gravity helped them drip further inside.

"You look so perfect like this Y/N." John brushed your hair back. "Compliant and listening for once."

He leaned over and kissed your forehead. The dried tears started to form again, still unsure how to respond to this situation. The anger from John was gone and he gave you a wink. Maybe you shouldn't worry about it too much. John was the one in control after all.


	17. Salt, Sex and Soulless Sam

Salt, Sex and Soulless Sam...

Summary: **Sam Winchester without a soul is a dangerous person to be around...**

**You are on a deadly hunt with Sam Winchester, little did you know however he'd end up hunting you.**

You sat at the bar tapping your black heeled leather boot against the bar rail, scanning the room every few minutes, slowly stirring the rum and coke in front of you with the straw for something to do. You were patiently waiting for something to happen, some clue that you were in the right place, that your hunch was right. They usually were, you were after all a damn good hunter, and still being alive was testament to that. You'd got wind of the job the usual way, stories online and in the papers, mysterious deaths in the woods, strange sightings of a creature, the usual bag. The bar was starting to fill up, and the locals would soon be in, drinking their weekly paycheck and swapping tales of local legend and gossiping about the recently deceased like a rabble of old women. You'd already gathered a fair bit of info from the Sheriff and the morgue, but this was an easy way of finding out the good stuff, the stuff people didn't feel safe talking about without a drink in their hand, the supernatural stuff. You rummaged in your purse for your phone, pushing the essentials aside: the miniature EMF reader, salt, bottle of holy water, silver knife, the usual, when a familiar voice at the bar caused your head to whip up.

"Double scotch. No ice." he ordered. You smiled to yourself, you'd recognize that tall frame and mane of hair anywhere. Sam Winchester. You looked briefly around for the other, older Winchester but he was nowhere in sight. You could hardly believe Sam would be anywhere without Dean, but that seemed to be the case. At least you knew your hunch about the job was right, wherever a Winchester was, trouble was never far behind. You leaned forward as he hadn't seemed to have noticed you and said enthusiastically

"Well, hey you!" he turned his head to the side and looked you up and down briefly, a small level of recognition crossing his handsome face before he simply replied "Hey" and turned back to the bar. Well that was confusing, and that certainly wasn't the smiley greeting you usually got from him. Granted, it had been a while since you last saw the Winchesters but you had all worked very closely, not to mention you'd saved their asses on more than one occasion, and all you got from him was a stinking "Hey". You slapped him hard across the arm a questioning look on your face

"Hey?" you ask disbelievingly. He turned back around a small expression of annoyance flitting across his face,

"Yeah, Hey." he repeated, he didn't say it unkindly but there was no warmth to his tone. You leaned back on your bar stool surveying him for a moment, it was definitely Sam Winchester, plaid shirt and all, but still, something seemed different. You knew the story of course; all the hunters had noticed how fucked up everything got when the Winchesters set off the apocalypse, hell you were pretty pissed off about it yourself, but you'd also heard from Bobby Singer himself what the boys had, had to sacrifice to end it. You'd heard the rumours naturally that Sam had somehow gotten out of the cage and was miraculously back on the hunting circuit. That must be the difference; spending time locked up with Lucifer would change anyone, the fact that he was even here standing and not rocking somewhere in a corner was a miracle in itself. You pressed on though, despite the less than warm greeting, two hunters were always better than one.

"So, guess we're hunting the same thing then, you find anything out yet?" you asked optimistically, as he paid the barman. He half smirked at you before taking a swig of his drink "We're not hunting anything. I am. You're off the case. So go get your nails done or whatever it is you girls do" he answered stiffly. Whoa, OK. So being in the cage had clearly turned sweet Sammy into a giant ass hat and you didn't mind telling him so.

"Alone? OK then, have it your way hot shot. But guessing by your bag you've not even checked into a motel yet, which means I'm at least two days ahead of you on the research front" you smiled smugly at him taking a long sip through your straw. You both stared momentarily at each other; you could practically see his brain weighing up the options.

"Fine! What Intel do you have so far?" he snapped practically slamming his drink down. You grinned mischievously, you loved to win and his bad attitude just made it all the more satisfying.

You told him everything you knew, about the mutilated half eaten corpses you'd seen at the morgue, and about the local legend of a 9 foot clawed monster running wild in the told him your suspicions of it being an actual Chupacabra and he nodded thoughtfully, seemingly he agreed. You were just about to order another drink when he abruptly downed the remains of his third double scotch, swung his bag onto his shoulder and headed out the door without a backwards glance. Quickly paying your tab and grabbing your purse, you ran out after him. If he thought he could leave you behind he had another thing coming.

"Where the Hell do you think you're going?!" you yelled at him. He stopped dead in the parking lot and stood still for a moment before turning around a look of frustration plastered across his face.

"To the freaking woods! That's where the last victim was found and you haven't even bothered to look there yet" he fumed before turning on his heel and walking over to a silver dodge charger. He threw his bag on the backseat and stood at the door silently, clearly waiting for you to come and get in. You sighed and stomped over throwing yourself in the passenger seat. He climbed in the driver's side and gunned the engine, shooting out of the parking lot and out towards the woods.

He drove silently and you decided he wasn't going to talk unless you started the conversation. As much as it bugged you to be the first to give in, you needed to be on good terms with the person you were hunting with. They were after all the one you needed to watch your back and you and Sam used to be good friends way back when.

"So where's Dean?" you ventured trying to sound nonchalant. His knuckles clenched on the steering wheel momentarily but his eyes never left the road.

"Outta the game. He's living with a woman and her kid playing happy families" he told you matter-of-factly. The news felt like a punch to the gut. You'd always had a soft spot for the older Winchester, he was handsome and cocky but he could also be funny and sweet. You had shared the most amazing night together once but you'd never pursued anything more because that wasn't something he ever wanted. Hunting was his life.

"Oh. Well, good for him" you murmured, tying not to sound too unhappy about it. This earned you your first glance all ride from Sam as he smirked at your reply.

"Oh right, I remember. You and him had a thing." He said making it sound like it was something wrong and dirty. You couldn't help but blush embarrassedly, you weren't aware that Sam knew that little secret.

The rest of the drive was silent and you took to looking out at the scenery but more than once you felt Sam's eyes on you. You were just about to ask "What?" as you felt his gaze again for the hundredth time but the car slowed to a stop and he swiftly got out and popped the trunk. 'Humph some gentleman' you thought as you hauled your ass round to lean against the cars flank. Sam passed you a flash light with the order of

"Hold this" whilst he rummaged through the trunk for weapons, and you thought Dean was the bossy one. After pulling out a sawn off and tucking a handgun down the back of his jeans, he made to close the trunk until you made a noise in protest. All you had was your knife and the flashlight he had just given you. What were you supposed to do? Club the thing to death? He looked irritated for a second before throwing the trunk wide and motioning for you to pick one. You went to pick up another shotgun but he stopped you,

"Not that one." He stated. You shook your head in annoyance and reached for another, but his hand flew out stopping you again

"Or that one" he told you flatly.

"Which one then!?" You asked exasperated, talk about not wanting to share your toys. He passed you a small hand gun; shaking your head you tucked it down the back of your waistband.

"Go careful with that, wouldn't wanna blow that tight little ass off" he leered slamming the trunk down and walking purposefully away towards the entrance of the woods. You stood stunned for a moment. Had Sam Winchester really just said that to you? This night was getting weirder by the second; you set of after him as he clearly wasn't waiting. The last thing you needed was to end up as Chupacabra Chow.

After trudging through the woods you both eventually found the latest murder site. The brown earth was still stained with blood and there were deep claw marks in the bark of several surrounding trees. Darkness was slowly creeping in and there were several ominous looking clouds that you definitely didn't like the look of looming in the distance. You'd already resorted to using the flashlight. You told Sam that you thought you should head back, but he just waved you off

"You go. I mean if you're scared" he answered snidely. You weren't scared; you were trying to be smart. You were just about to argue this point when somewhere in the trees nearby, a branch snapped loudly. Sam set off at a run his gun drawn, leaving you to try and keep up behind him. Luckily you were light on your feet and this made up for his long strides. You followed him deeper into the woods following the sound of whatever was moving out there. After twenty minutes of tracking, the pace had become much slower as you both neared your target. You crouched low at the base of a tree, gun drawn. The darkness was so thick in this part of the woods it was only the narrow torch beam and thin shafts of moon light that provided any visibility. Sam stood like a statue gun raised, silently waiting for whatever it was to appear. He wasn't even covering himself the dumb ass. Another twig snapped close by and you were alert, ready. A shadow shifted in the trees and you held your breath finger on the trigger. It moved into the light and….it was just a deer. Sam shot it dead in cold blood. You stood up shock running through you.

"It was just a deer! What the hell Sam?" you yell at him shaking with cold and anger.

"Yeah, well, now it's a dead deer" he replied totally remorseless. You weren't opposed to killing things that deserved to be killed but a defenseless deer did not fit into that category.

"Great! Good job Sam! It's freezing cold, it's pitch black and now you just gave our position away and I'm pretty sure were lost!" you scream at him furiously. To make things even worse a loud roll of thunder rumbled overhead and there was a flash of lightning before the heavens opened up and the rain came pouring down. Sam turned and faced you, his eyebrows raised as if he were mildly surprised.

"Are you done?" he asked sounding almost bored. "Because if you are, there's a cabin about 2 clicks north from here. It's where I'm heading, feel free to follow" he told you before he started heading north through the trees and rain. You cursed him under your breath before following him.

Sure enough he was right. The cabin was wooden and looked like it hadn't been used in years, but it would do as shelter for the night. You'd stayed in worse, although you weren't too thrilled about the current company. Sam kicked the old rusted lock off the door and forced his way in, you hurried in after him out of the cold and rain pushing your soaking wet hair back away from your face. Inside left much to be desired but at least there was a fireplace and a table and cot that had some musty old bedding on it. You walked further into the one roomed cabin shivering and you heard the door snap shut behind you and the bolt slide ominously across it. You didn't know why the door being locked made you feel uneasy; it should after all make you feel safer. You watched Sam warily for a moment as he took off his soaking jacket and threw it on the table. He found some salt and began the usual salting of the windows and doors. He had certainly matured since you were last together that was for sure; he'd lost his boyish looks and grown out his hair, now he was rugged and handsome and huge, and something about him just screamed dangerous. Something in your gut was telling proceed with caution.

You walked over to the fireplace shuddering, hoping to light it and get some much needed heat into the place. Luckily there was a pile of chopped firewood ready and waiting. You dropped down onto your knees and started loading the fire place with wood leaning forward on all fours to make sure you got it right to the back. You heard a chair scrape across the floor and you looked over your shoulder to see Sam lounging back in the chair watching you like a hawk.

"Enjoying the show?" you asked sarcastically. Was he really just going to sit there and not even offer to help? He grinned lazily at you making your nerves stand on end.

"Yeah actually I am. You know there's something almost poetic about seeing a girl soaking wet and down on all fours" he smirked. You had to stop your jaw from hitting the floor. The Sam you knew would never say anything like that, to any girl. You lit a match and threw it hastily into the fire before quickly getting up feeling incredibly self-conscious.

"You know your brother wouldn't be too happy hearing you talk to me like that" you scolded, sounding much braver than you felt. Sam laughed at you, not the reaction you were hoping for.

"My brother? Oh you mean the one who fucked you and took off, yeah I'm sure he'd dive right in to defend your honour" he said snarkily, tilting the chair back idly. That stung, it wasn't just sex with Dean. It meant more than just that.

"Your brother's a good guy. He had to leave, it's the job. I knew what I signed up for" you told him indignantly. Sam just laughed again

"Awe how sweet, you really believe that don't you?" he mocked "Lemme' guess he fed you some bullcrap lines about how you 'really meant something' to him and 'If only things were different' oh and my personal favourite 'when this is all over, I promise I'll come back for you someday'" he taunted, laughing. It was true Dean had said all those things and you'd honestly believed him. You could feel anger and hurt bubbling up inside you. You felt humiliated. You did the only seemingly rational thing possible, you picked up the flashlight and threw it at him, hard, yelling

"Go to Hell Sam!"

His reflexes were even better than you were expecting and he caught it mid-air. He stood fuming kicking the chair back away from him before storming over and slamming you against the wall his hand around your throat. He leaned in deadly close your noses almost touching "I already did, it didn't agree with me" he whispered menacingly. You looked fearfully up at him; the force in which he'd slammed you against the wall with had shocked you into silence. He smiled cockily at you before reaching up and tucking a lock of loose wet hair behind your ear.

"See how much better we get along when you keep that smart ass mouth of yours closed." He told you his tone quietly mocking.

"You are pretty hot when you're mad though, I like a girl who's got a bit of fight in her" he leered leaning in. Instinctually your hand came up and slapped him hard across the face. He didn't wince, instead he grinned menacingly.

"Your gunna regret that" he promised. His hand tightened momentarily around your throat and you feared the worst, but instead he released his hand and grabbed both of yours instead pinning them to the wall above your head. You struggled trying to loosen your hands out of his grip but he was too big and too strong, and he knew it. You thought about screaming and he clearly read your thoughts on your face because he said

"Scream all you want, there's no one around to hear you. But even if you choose not to, I'll be making you scream my name soon enough" Anger finally outweighed the fear you felt as what he had just said registered.

"Like hell I will!" you hissed.

Sam looked like you'd just presented him with the best challenge ever and his eyes glinted dangerously before he leant in close and began kissing your neck. He sucked gently before grazing his teeth across your skin. You squirmed in his vice like grip, looking skyward trying not to think about how your whole body was lighting up at his touch. He kissed along your collarbone before slowly making his way up and across your jaw. You were preparing yourself to feel his lips on yours but he pulled away before he reached them. Instead with his free hand he trailed one long finger down the side of your face, along the trail he'd just kissed on your collarbone to the opening of your shirt. He looked down at you almost daring you to protest but you weren't about to give him the satisfaction as you stared boldly back. He waited a beat tilting his head slightly before he ripped it open sending the buttons ricocheting across the floor. You couldn't help the sharp intake of breath as the cold air hit your still damp flesh. He smirked at your reaction. He took his free hand and reached forward cupping your breast; he massaged it firmly, leaning in once again, this time however he nibbled at your earlobe sucking gently.

"I'm going to make you beg for me to fuck you" he whispered menacingly, you were on the verge of protesting until his thumb dipped into the cup of your bra and grazed across your cold sensitive nipple. An unwanted moan escaped your lips as he circled it slowly. You felt him smile as he returned to kissing your neck as he kept up the torturously slow circling of your nipple.

Your body was betraying you, and you wanted to hate it, but his touch was electrifying. You moaned again as he bit down on your neck and pinched your nipple hard. He drew back and raked his eyes up and down your body his expression cold and calculating. Your cheeks were flushed but you still looked up at him defiantly. His free hand travelled to his own waist and he began undoing his leather belt. He pulled it free from the loops but instead of dropping it on the floor, he brought your hands down in front of you and bound them with it, you pulled back in what you knew was a futile attempt. Your hands were shackled together and he raised them swiftly back above your head hooking the belt onto a coat hook you hadn't noticed there before, leaving both his hands now free. He advanced on you again a devious smile playing on his lips. Your stomach clenched tight as you wondered what his next move would be; you knew you were his prey and part of you liked it. His soft lips were back at your collarbone but this time he focused his attentions lower, he held one breast in each of his large hands as he rubbed them firmly almost painfully, his rhythm was slow, he was taking his time as he toyed with you. Or so you thought. He caught you off guard as he forced the cups of your bra down freeing your breasts and trussing them up at the same time. His mouth found one of your cold erect nipples and his hot wet tongue slid across it. You bit down hard on your lip and closed your eyes tight unwilling to make a sound. Until he bit down sharply, causing you to cry out in shock. You glared at him wanting to convey everything you felt silently, you were scared if you opened your mouth more unwanted sounds would escape.

"You might as well let yourself enjoy this, I know you want to" he enticed. He pressed his forehead to yours and stared down into your eyes, you felt his hand slide across your stomach and down to your crotch, cupping you. He maintained eye contact as he waited for a reaction. When he didn't get one he began rubbing you through the denim of your jeans, slowly but firmly. You twitched slightly at the contact; it had been a long time since anyone had touched you there. He continued rubbing you through the fabric with one hand and running his thumb across one of your nipples with the other. His eyes never left yours. You were struggling now; keeping it together was becoming harder as your body craved release. You rested your head back against the wall and closed your eyes, trying to focus on anything but the building feelings of pleasure. Sam's hand movements slowly became faster and your breath caught in your chest. He stopped torturing your nipple and snaked his way up your back into your hair. He held it tight and pulled down sharply forcing your chin upwards and making look into his eyes once again. Your legs shook and your body felt like it was on fire; you were just at the point of no return when he suddenly pulled his hand away and stopped touching you. You whimpered in frustration and the game was eyes lit up with victory. You flinched away from him angry with yourself as he brought both his hands to either side of your face tilting it upwards.

"You want this don't you?" Sam whispered darkly leaning in and finally kissing you. His lips were soft at first but his mouth became more demanding and needy as he forced entry with his tongue. He had one hand fisted back into your hair and the other resumed rubbing you again.

"You want me, to fuck you" he snarled into your mouth. You whimpered back in response, but it wasn't enough for him "Say it!" he growled pulling back staring at you hungrily.

"Yes!" you yelled finally, frustration and need taking over

"I want you Sam" you added quietly your voice tinged with shame. But he didn't care he had won. He kissed you again claiming your mouth as his fingers worked the button and zipper on your jeans, once released he pulled them down and off over your boots, leaving you standing there in just your, bra and panties. He stood back admiring you hungrily; he pulled his own damp shirt off revealing his massive broad shoulders and toned physique. The sight only made you want him more. He reached up to where the belt was hooked and finally let your arms down, the blood rushed back to into your limbs as he made quick work of untying the belt throwing it to one side.

With strength that no longer surprised you he lifted you off the ground and pressed you back against the wall, kissing you feverishly. You wrapped your legs around his waist and fed your fingers into his hair, moaning into his mouth as he began grinding himself against you. He groaned deeply, with only your thin panties acting as a barrier, against his hard denim clad erection, your arousal was beginning to soak through the thin cotton leaving you wet and wanting. He walked with you still in his arms towards the wooden table. Laying you down he quickly hooked his thumbs into the side of your panties before swiftly removing them.

"Now don't you dare move, you understand me?" he instructed. You nodded as he stood above you and firmly pushed your knees apart exposing you beneath him. He smiled dangerously at you before sliding one of his long fingers deep into your folds and inside you. You let out a low moan as he slowly let it glide out and thrust it back in again.

"Your so wet" he almost crooned, "But you're not nearly ready enough to handle me yet" he added cockily. Sam added another finger to the one already thrusting inside you, widening you with every pump of his fingers. You were panting in earnest as he stroked at your sensitive insides.

"S-Sam, p-please" you mewled breathlessly, you were close again, the fire raging over your skin spreading outwards from where his fingers manipulated you. He just raised his eyebrows at you and shook his head slowly.

"Nah uh, not yet" he warned. You gripped the edges of the table trying to control yourself, trying to reign in the feeling threating to overtake you. You were just about to lose it, when again he withdrew his fingers abruptly. You panted breathlessly your body shaking from being so close to edge. You almost wanted to cry at being denied release yet again.

Sam knew what he was doing to you, he was enjoying every minute, manipulating your body into submission. He slowly undid the button on his own jeans and undid the zipper. Without removing them he freed himself from his boxers, and for once you thought your torturer was right. You weren't ready to handle him. He licked his palm and stroked his own huge length up and down a few times, the head already glistening with his own excitement. He looked greedily at you as he advanced and you felt scared once again.

"Give me your hands" he ordered, and you complied. With your back still flat to table and your boots planted firmly at the edge, he took both your hands in his and dragged you further down the table towards him, making your knees jut out further opening you wider. He was so close now and your insides clenched with anticipation. He rested the head of his penis at your opening, but instead of pushing in he allowed it to glide up and over your clit. You gasped at the unexpected feeling as he repeated the motion several times, each stroke like a tiny electric shock. He bit his own lip as he watched himself gliding over you coating himself in your wetness. He let his hands glide down your thighs to the apex where they met. He fanned them out grasping at your hips. He held them tightly as he continued to let his shaft slide over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you" he commanded his deep voice husky and needy. You were lost for words panting heavily as he slid up and over you again and again.

"Dammit tell me!" he demanded. You looked into his eyes, they were hooded and full of lust, "F-fuck me" you whispered. He let out a small sharp laugh

"I'm sorry I didn't catch that" he teased. You were nearing the end of your tether you couldn't take this anymore

"Dammit Sam! Fuck me, Please!" you begged. He grasped your hips tighter and slammed himself deep inside you. You cried out from the shock and the sheer feeling of fullness

"I told you I'd make you beg" he growled before pulling back and thrusting himself hard inside you again. He began rolling his hips into you in an unrelenting rhythm filling you completely with himself.

"Your gunna scream for me, and I want to hear my name" he told you grunting. You didn't even have time to answer as he released your hips grabbing your wrists instead pulling you closer forcing himself deeper inside of. You moaned loudly as each thrust rocked your whole body, each time he slammed into you, your breasts bounced back and forth. His tight grip on your hands kept you anchored to him. With nowhere to go, you tried desperately to keep up with his unrelenting rhythm, you dug your nails into the back of his hands moaning loudly you're back arching off the table. Sam was breathing heavily sweat was running down his chest as he carried on fucking you mercilessly.

"S-Sam!" you pleaded your muscles tightening around him, he grunted deeply upon hearing his name.

"Not Yet!" he spat, speeding up, slamming into you harder and faster. You wailed loudly you couldn't hold it much longer, you screwed your eyes tight shut throwing your head back "Open your eyes! I want to see you" he growled. You forced them to flutter open and stared into his blazing eyes.

"Fuck! Please Sam, Please! I c-cant!" you pleaded your muscles began to clench uncontrollably you were so close. You bit down hard on your lip to stop yourself screaming anymore. Releasing one hand, he brought the other quickly down, never faltering in his pace. He began rubbing his thumb across your clit adding another sensation to the already unbearable feeling.

"That's it! I want you to feel it. Scream for me!" he barked.

"Arggh! No Please! Sam! Please I n-need to cum" you begged, you just couldn't take it. "Then cum for me!" he ordered flicking his thumb faster and thrusting harder.

"Oh god! Oh God! Sam! Ahhh!" you screamed as your muscles spasmd and you orgasmed flowed over him. He grunted hard, thrusting deeper and he groaned through gritted teeth as he found his own release, hot jets of his cum flowing into you.

Sam collapsed over you panting, his skin shone with a sheen of sweat. Your own breath was ragged as your body still shook with the aftershock. He planted a shockingly tender kiss on your stomach before his shoulders started shaking with laughter. You scowled at him, what could he possibly find funny at a moment like this. He grinned devilishly up at you his eyes glinting.

"Looks like I was right. But I wonder, what would my brother say if he knew how you'd begged me to fuck you" he sneered. Your eyes widened with shock. Could he really be that cruel? You shoved him away from you, guilt settling like a lead weight in your stomach. You reminded yourself painfully, that Dean had settled, he probably wouldn't give a damn about what you'd done with Sam. You smirked back at him, finding your fighting spirit. You weren't going to let him manipulate you again.

"Fuck you, you son of a bitch" you said your tone deadly. His mouth quirked up at the sides

"Oh believe me, you will. Again and again and again…"


	18. when you wish upon a star (DRS)

**When you wish upon a star **

Summary: Dean's a demon and you and Sam have been trying to track him down. While Sam picks up a lead in Kansas, you head over to Chicago, following a tip that lands you in more trouble than you expected. (Dean/Reader/Sam)

Chapter 1

You could feel Sam's eyes burning into the back of your head as you walked away from him. The tension had been simmering thick since he'd brought home his brother's body, only for it to disappear hours later. It became a non-stop search to track the older Winchester down.

Sam wasn't eating or sleeping properly; he'd lost weight and was being reckless when it came to torturing demons for information. You'd stayed away from that, not having the stomach for it, keeping to research and tracking police reports.

Imagining Dean as a demon didn't exactly conjure images of him going on holiday and chilling out. It brought to mind the sort of carnage you didn't want to see.

Dean had been missing for five weeks and the search wasn't getting you anywhere. Sam had found a lead in Kansas but it looked like a dud to you - there had been multiple hits that you were convinced meant half the hits you were getting were distractions.

A solid bit of information from Chicago seemed more likely but Sam wouldn't hear of it. In defiance, you said you'd go alone and Sam had just looked at you with those puppy dog eyes, the way he always looked at you; longing, sadness and desperation all bundled up into a multitude of colors.

You'd never made a secret of your attraction to Sam and Dean, the entire time you'd been living your life under their roof. But their hang-ups on relationships never let it get any further than simple flirting. Sam especially was protective of you, which wasn't so bad considering you liked to stay away from danger entirely if possible.

He didn't say anything so you left, turning your back and walking away, feeling the weight of his gaze on your shoulders.

His lead was a dud.

Yours wasn't.

Dean's fingers curled around your bare hip, pulling you closer against his body. "You know how long I've wanted you like this?" he asked, kissing your shoulder and you shuddered, unable to move with your arms secured to the posts either side of the bed. "How long I've wanted to feel this hot piece of ass on me?"

You couldn't answer - the thick leather across your mouth prevented that entirely.

Kansas had been a distraction - Chicago had been the trap. Sam was hundreds of miles away with no clue where you were. You didn't even know if you were in the city anymore. Dean had been waiting for you the whole time; you'd never stood a chance.

Dean ran his hands down the side of your nude body, rutting his cock against your lower back. You moaned and arched back, completely under his control.

He'd made a few friends in the weeks he'd been gone. Ones that had shown him how to get what he wanted, how to utilize his new powers. And Dean had always been a fast learner.

His finger dipped between your thighs, stroking your soaked folds and you whined into the gag. "So wet for me, baby. All those little comments and innuendos," Dean chuckled, withdrawing his finger and pressing it against your lips, "guess you really did just want me to fuck you."

It wasn't a lie; you'd thought about both brothers too many times to count. One look from Dean could have your panties dripping. Which, it turned out, might have been intentional. Demons didn't have inhibitions. Dean had been stripped of his and his wants were simple.

Blood, booze, and you; bound to his every command.

At least while he was occupied with you, he wasn't out seeking the other two.

Fisting his cock, Dean dragged the tip against your pussy lips, groaning as your juices coated his skin. You arched your back, silently begging for what he was teasing and Dean chuckled, running one hand over your rump. "Damn, you're a needy little slut. You want my cock?"

You nodded, gasping into the gag until it was sticky and warm with your breath.

Dean hummed, pressing the tip into you, just enough to let you know he was there. "You really want this thick dirty demon cock in your tight little pussy, Y/N?" He leaned in, resting his chin on your shoulder. It hurt but you couldn't care less. "Want me to cum inside your bare cunt?"

No. No, you didn't want that, not really. But Dean's words twisted in your head, the power of his voice enough to make you whimper pathetically.

There wasn't any moment of adjustment when he pushed into you. His thrusts were greedy and harsh, bruising against your ass and thighs. The slap of his skin against yours echoed around the room, mixed with his loud grunts and your muffled cries.

"Did you wish for this?" Dean demanded, taking hold of your throat with one hand, the other grasping your hip painfully tight. "You lay awake at night thinking about me fucking you? Or Sam, maybe?" His dry chuckle vibrated against your back and you cried out into the gag. "You know, Sam told me once," he pulled your head back to make sure you were listening, "he wished he had a normal life so he could tell you how he felt."

His hand released your throat and you gasped for breath. Dean was holding both your hips now, slamming into you with a force that made your entire body shudder, breasts swinging where you hung in the restraints.

"Do you think he'd wish that now?" he purred and you closed your eyes, knowing that you were going to cum and knowing Dean knew it too. "Think he'd wish for you to love him like he loves you when you're tied up and impaled on his brother's cock?"

You screamed, pulling at the restraints hard as you came. Dean didn't stop, fucking into you until his eyes filled with black and he came hard, his nails drawing blood on your hips where he held you tight. When he was done, he hummed happily against your shoulder, kissing the nape of your neck.

"You know," he started, running his hands over your belly, his still-hard cock twitching inside you, "maybe that's not such a bad idea. Maybe we should make your deepest darkest desires come true." You forced your eyes open as he caressed your swollen, sensitive clit. It was pleasure to the extent of pain and you knew what he was trying to do.

"Dean - no…"

"I'll show baby brother what whore for my cock you are." He was rocking his hips again now and you felt tears escape your eyes. "Give him a little taste…"

Your insides twisted as Dean wrung one final orgasm out of you, fluid gushing from your pussy, dripping down your legs. You sobbed, half in relief and half in humiliation as Dean pulled away, withdrawing from your body and leaving you there.

He cleaned himself up and dressed before he dealt with you. Surprisingly, his hands were always gentle when he touched you afterwards and no matter how many time you told yourself it was a ploy, you kept falling for the part Dean played.

Like it had been for the last five days, Dean helped you shower and gave you clothes to wear. He was exceptionally possessive over you, not letting you leave the room and locking you in when he wasn't there. "You be a good girl," he murmured, kissing your forehead when you'd snuck into the bed in the corner of the room. "And I'll make all your wishes come true."

You drove overnight through countryside backroads, avoiding people and especially cops. Dean had you under his control but it didn't mean he wanted any association with humans. The less trouble he attracted the better. He wanted to surprise Sam and not announce he was coming.

The unfortunate side effect Dean's control over you was that he had to keep it up. Not always literally but… well, literally. You were quite grateful for his decision to keep to quiet roads in the dark, considering you spent most of the drive sucking his cock, letting him use your mouth over and over.

He stopped for food at a roadside diner, a place that looked like the setting for the first five minutes of a horror movie. But they did food to go and Dean didn't really care if it was rat meat - you needed to eat. He wasn't about to let his prize possession go hungry.

The burger he brought you was surprisingly tasty. You ate it slowly, trying to pretend for a moment that it was just you and Dean on a road trip. Not you and a demon who would most likely insist you suck his dick again once you were done with your meal.

He didn't, surprisingly. He ordered you to sleep while you could, the innuendo clear in his tone.

You didn't know what lay ahead or what he was planning but you weren't going to pass up the opportunity to sleep.

Dean woke you up a few hours later. The sun was just beginning to light the sky and the engine wasn't rumbling underneath you anymore. With a puzzled expression, you sat up, slowly realizing where you were. "Dean…"

"Welcome home, sweetheart," Dean smirked, his eyes filling with black. You could feel him now, flexing his control over you. "Now, you stay here for a minute and I'll go tell Sammy the good news." Confusion filtered into your eyes. "You gonna be a good girl?" he asked.

Swallowing, you nodded. Dean smiled, kissed you once on the lips, and got out of the car, heading towards the bunker door. He opened it and slipped inside, leaving you to wait.

You didn't move from your seat. Your hands were shaking but you daren't move.

Dean returned thirty minutes later with blood on his cheek. Your blood ran cold at the thought of what he might have done to Sam. He opened the door and pulled you out, smiling brightly.

"I've got a treat for you, baby," he murmured, leading you into the bunker and down the stairs. There were signs of a struggle in the war room and blood drops trailing down the hallway in the direction Dean was dragging you. Stopping in the corridor outside your bedroom, Dean's eyes flashed black. "Strip."

There was a flare of resistance in your belly and you clenched your jaw in defiance, fighting against his hold. Dean smirked and pushed you back against the wall, one hand around your throat.

"I gave you an order, princess," he snarled, almost playfully. His hand curled tighter on your neck, warmth spreading through your skin. His other hand pushed between your legs, stroked your covered pussy. "Don't you want your dreams to come true?"

His enchantment was overwhelming your desire to escape and you whimpered when Dean kissed you harshly, rubbing his finger against your clit. Your knees shook and he pulled away.

"Are you going to be a good girl?" he asked quietly and you nodded. A satisfied smile stretched his lips and he released you, watching as you dutifully stripped out of the few clothes you were wearing. "Oh, Sammy's going to love this."

Taking your arm again, he led you into your bedroom. It was messy - Sam had obviously put up a fight in here too and had lost, judging by the fact that he was tied to a chair, struggling against the bonds. His eyes landed on you and he went still.

Dean laughed at his reaction. "Oh, yeah, Sam. I forgot to tell you." He shoved you forward. "Happy birthday."

Sam's face drained of color as you started to walk towards him. Your body was bare to his eyes and goddamn, he couldn't help it; his cock swelled in his pants as every fantasy he'd ever had about you was laid in front of him.

"Do you know how much he loves you?" Dean murmured, flashing black eyes at your nude form striding towards his brother. "How many times he jerked off thinking about burying himself in your wet, warm pussy?"

You smiled, cupping your breasts as you neared Sam, thumbing your nipples to hardness. The younger Winchester swallowed, staring up at you, trying not to show his arousal at the sight of your naked body.

"And she is so wet and so warm, Sam," Dean continued, following you across the room, stopping behind you where you were just out of Sam's reach. "He yearns for your cunt, baby girl. Wants you wrapped around him, full of Winchester cock."

Sam ground his teeth together as Dean cupped your breasts and massaged them. Whatever twisted spell he had you under, Sam was struggling to resist. "Let her go, Dean."

"Why?" his brother demanded, freeing his cock with one hand. "Trust me, Sam. She's gonna crave you as much as she craves me." Dean's hand slipped from your breast to your ass. "Lemme show you."

You spread your legs as Dean patted your ass, bending forward until your hands were on Sam's knees. He stared at you, watching your breasts swing as you bent over. Dean was stroking himself, looking down at your exposed pussy.

"You know, I'm expecting a thank you," he commented, teasing your entrance with his cockhead. You moaned, keeping your eyes open and on Sam's. The fabric underneath your hand tugged as his cock twitched. "For bringing you together like this."

"Dean, stop," Sam pleaded, shaking his head.

Dean raised an eyebrow and you whined needily. "Relax, Sam. She loves it."

He pushed into you in one thrust and you almost fell, his height forcing your feet onto tiptoes. You cried out, lurching forward and Sam groaned when your head nearly ended up in his lap. Dean wasn't one to allow time for adjustment but he remained still as you whined and clawed at Sam's legs.

"See? She's desperate for it. She loves cumming but she has to earn it."

"This is wrong, Dean," Sam growled, starting to struggle again. You were sobbing with need now, clenching around Dean's cock as he refused to move. "This isn't you!"

"Wrong, again," Dean replied, sounding bored. "Sam, why can't you just have a little fun for a change?" He smiled, grabbing your ass and squeezing.

"Please," you mewled and Dean slapped your ass hard. "Please, sir," you amended.

A triumphant expression crossed Dean's face. "See?"

Sam shook his head slowly, pulling at his bindings. "Dean, stop!" he repeated.

Dean scowled - this wasn't going as he planned. Sam was supposed to be unable to resist you. "You know, if you're not gonna play along," he ran his hand up your spine, feeling you shudder with desire, "I've got no use for her other than a warm hole and there's plenty of those around." His hands slid around your ribs, lifting you up so your back was against his chest, his fingers clutching your throat.

"No -" Sam cried.

You were impaled, quite literally, on Dean's cock. Your toes didn't touch the floor and you gasped for air as Dean's hand squeezed your neck. "Fuck," Dean growled, lifting you up and down a little on his cock. "She's fucking tight like this, Sammy. Maybe I will keep her." He pulled you down again, filling you completely. Your vision was starting to tinge with darkness. "At least until I cum."

He meant it. Sam swallowed again, fear on his face as Dean started to fuck you like a rag doll, his arms flexing as he speared you with his thick shaft over and over. It felt too good and you were slowly losing the ability to breathe.

"Stop!" Sam groaned and Dean's pace dropped. "Please, Dean, I'll… I'll do what you want."

Dean grinned, dragging you off of his cock and tossing you to the floor. You collapsed, shaking all over, lifting your eyes to look at Sam. "Good," he chirped. "Now, Y/N, be a good girl and show my brother what your hot little mouth can do."

You climbed to your knees obediently, crawling towards Sam. Dean was only manipulating your inner desires - you had wanted Sam since day one. Now, you were getting your taste, no matter the cost.

"Y/N," Sam hissed as you reached him, his arms straining at the bindings again. Dean watched, pulling your desk chair across the room so he could watch. You spread your fingers over Sam's lap, framing his cock with your hands. "Please -"

"Give him a kiss, Y/N," Dean purred, stroking his cock as he watched you.

Sam was resistant. You were expecting it and persisted, Dean's control making you blind to everything but your lust for Sam. He moaned when you forced your tongue between his lips, drawing him in. Dean smiled lazily. One taste and Sam would be hooked on you.

It took only seconds for the fight in Sam to fade and he responded to your kiss, no longer struggling at his bindings. You unbuttoned his pants, tugging them down as far you could, letting his thick cock spring free. He was hard as steel and leaking pre-cum and when you broke the kiss to drop your mouth to his dick, Sam only groaned and tipped his head back.

Your lips covered the tip of his cock, sliding down eagerly over his shaft. Dean had gotten you accustomed to the size of his shaft, so you were adequately able to deep-throat for a certain amount of time. But Sam… Sam had a dick you had no comparison for. It was at least nine inches long, if not more, thick and swollen, your index finger and thumb kept apart by an inch when you held the base. There was an almost uncomfortable stretch at the corners of your mouth as you tried to take him in more.

Dean chuckled, shifting his chair so he could see you sucking his brother's dick. "Damn, Sammy. She can barely get any of that in there." Sam groaned, not bothering to lift his head as you struggled to get his cock in your mouth. "Man, you're gonna make her scream with that thing."

You gave up trying to deep-throat him and stuck to licking and sucking at his head while you stroked the rest between your fingers. Sam didn't have anything bad to say about it, at least, and Dean made you keep going, watching and touching himself.

"I gotta ask, Sam," he started, giving his brother a curious look, "you ever hurt a girl with that monster cock of yours?" Sam lifted his head, fixing his eyes on Dean. "Like, I know you got the Winchester gift when it comes to women -" he snorted and Dean chuckled, "but seriously, dude. That is a big dick." He leaned forward. "Tell me."

Sam's teeth were clenched tightly but the curse was too strong. "They like it. But I have to prep."

Dean hummed, biting his bottom lip and stroking himself harder. "Is prep boring, Sam?" The younger man grunted and strained his neck. "I'll bet it is. You wanna know what else Y/N is good for?" He clicked his fingers and you released Sam, sitting back on your feet with saliva smeared around your mouth. Sam groaned and his cock twitched. "She'll literally let you fuck her with anything."

You waited for his instruction, licking your lips as you looked up at Sam. Dean got to his feet, wandering over to lift you by your elbow.

"Turn around, sweetheart," he purred and you obeyed, turning to face him, your back to Sam. "Now, fuck yourself on Sammy's thick cock." There was no hesitation on your part and you moved back until your ass was between Sam's thighs. He didn't make a sound when you wrapped your fingers around his shaft, lining him up and sinking down.

Sam's silence was broken with a deep snarl as you worked yourself onto him, taking it a literal inch at a time. Dean's eyes filled with black and he cupped your chin with his fingers, drawing your mouth towards his cock. The distraction actually helped and Sam was struggling not to lift his hips to sink into you.

Dean clicked his fingers and Sam's bindings were gone. He had full movement but no will of his own that wasn't driven by sexual needs. His huge hands gripped your hips and dragged you down, sinking balls deep inside you. You screamed, clutching Dean's cock with one hand, but the sound only last a few seconds as Dean forced his dick into your mouth, choking you.

Air was limited and your eyes rolled back, overwhelmed by Sam's now insistent movements, bouncing you on his cock. It felt like he'd ruined you already, left you gaping so no man could ever satisfy you again - except Dean would heal you like he did every single fucking time he hurt you.

You were drooling around Dean's cock, barely able to respond between to the two of them, drowned in the feeling of Sam's shaft splitting you open, bare inside you, and Dean choking you.

"Sammy wants to cum, Y/N," he murmured, pulling back to look at your red-rimmed eyes, your gaze on him with his cock stuffing your cheeks. "Shall I tell him to pull out?" You weren't able to answer and he knew it. "Or shall I let him have his greatest dream? You, all round and plump with his kids. Stuck with him." Dean chuckled. "Not like you're gonna be good for any other cock now he's destroyed that pretty little cunt."

Sam groaned, his whole body twitching.

"I don't think you have long," Dean murmured just as Sam roared and held your shoulders, forcing the entire length of his cock into you as he emptied himself with heavy breaths. "Too late." Sam's body gave out and he slumped back against the chair.

The spell wouldn't wear off right away and you knew it. At the last count, you'd finally been able to stop begging for Dean's cock after about six hours - something told you that Dean wasn't sticking around.

He fisted your hair and started to fuck your mouth, chasing his own release. When he came, he held your face against his crotch, grunting loudly when he spilled down your throat.

Sam was hard again by the time he finished and Dean pulled away, letting his younger brother tackle you to the floor with a sick smile. "Don't worry, baby. I'll fix you up when Sam's finished acting out his deepest desires." You cried out when Sam pushed into you again, practically dragging you along the carpet. Dean flashed you a grin. "Then he can do it all over again."

Chapter 2

After three rounds, you were exhausted and sore, begging for Sam to stop fucking you over and over. Dean had long since left, bored of watching. Eventually, Sam's body gave out and he collapsed, passing out. After a little while, you moved, groaning in agony as your body protested the movement.

Dean had left the door unlocked, most likely for a reason. What was he doing outside in the bunker?

You got your answer when you managed to limp to the door, heading down the corridor to get a drink. Your lips were chapped and sore and you thought you'd throw up with the taste of semen lingering on your tongue. "Where are you going?" Dean's voice growled from behind you and you turned, dropping the glass you were holding. It smashed to the floor around your feet and you dared not move for fear of cutting yourself.

"I was thirsty -"

"Did I give you permission? Where's Sam?" You were close to tears now and Dean's expression softened. "Hey, hey, hey, baby. Don't cry." He held his arms out, pouting at you. "C'mere." There was glass all over the floor; you couldn't move or you would cut your feet open. A shadow crossed Dean's face and he tilted his head a little. "I said, come here, princess."

Taking your first step, you sighed when nothing happened. On the second, you felt a piece brush your big toe. You were almost in front of him when he flicked a finger, sending a piece of glass skittering under your foot before you could stop it from coming down on the floor.

A scream of pain left your lips as the glass sank into your flesh and Dean chuckled, watching you try not to fall into the rest of it. Blood was dripping from your foot - the shard hadn't been too big but it was enough to be embedded in the skin, steadily leaking blood.

"You're such a drama queen," Dean growled, getting annoyed with your sobs. He scooped you up off of the floor, crunching across the glass with his bare feet, dragging you back to his room. Without ceremony, he dumped you on his bed, kneeled down, and grabbed your foot.

"What are you doing?" you squeaked, trying to tug it out of his grasp.

Dean's grip was too strong and he flashed you an evil grin before snatching the glass free. A dribble of blood ran down your foot but Dean's mouth was there, lapping it up and you groaned loudly, falling back on the bed. Dean rumbled against the arch of your foot, your blood staining his lips.

His eyes were black when he looked at you.

Warmth spread from the injury outward and the aches you felt dissipated. Dean stopped with his weird foot thing, dropping it to the bed. "Isn't that better?" he asked, holding his arms out. You pushed up onto your elbows.

"Why did you heal it?" you demanded, scowling at him.

"I'm just givin' you a taste," Dean murmured, pulling off his shirt, apparently unconcerned about his brother's whereabouts or if he was still bound.

"A taste of what?" He chuckled and you growled in irritation. "Dammit, De-"

He was in your face before you could finish, one hand around your throat, pushing you back onto the bed. "A taste of what I can do to you. I could cut your body a thousand times to watch you bleed and heal you to do it all over again. I could do anything to you, Y/N, and you would have to live through it ."

You swallowed, real unbridled fear curling in your belly. "You wouldn't -"

Dean laughed loudly, throwing you back onto the bed. "Try me, princess. Because your Dean, the one who would be begging you to forgive him, telling you this isn't him?" His eyes were blacker than ever, his smirk oddly complimenting to the devil inside him. "He's gone. And I'm what's left. And sweetheart," he leaned over you, pulling out a knife from the back of his pants as your eyes went wide, "there's some things you're never gonna forget."

Two days. Two days you spent in Dean's room. The sheets underneath you were matted with all sorts of things and for the last three hours, you'd been alone, too exhausted to even cry anymore. He hadn't hurt you bad enough to warrant healing you this time around.

His attitude was variable from one moment to the next. Sometimes he ranted away about how Sam had loved you but Dean wanted you first; it was apparently something that really pissed him off. In between rants about you, there was torture, cuts and nicks covering you. One rant about his dad had gotten him so angry, he'd slipped the knife into your liver, quickly bringing you back from the brink of death.

It was then that he'd turn sweet, kissing you, healing you, murmuring that he wished he'd done this a long time ago. And you fell for it the first time, thinking somehow that the real Dean was fighting back. You tried to show him that you'd always loved him and Sam but when you did, black eyes and mocking words reminded you that Dean would never fuck you like this.

You really hoped he wasn't torturing Sam somewhere too. And you were sure Cas should have been there by now.

The door opened and Dean walked in, Sam behind him. Sam was dressed and appeared unharmed, although the look on his face and the way he followed Dean obediently made you shudder.

"Hey there," Dean cooed, closing in on you and cupping your face. "Sorry I was gone so long, Sam," he glanced over his shoulder where his brother stood slouching, "was a little reluctant to join in the fun." He released your face, clapping his hands together hard enough to make you jump.

"It's okay now, Y/N," Sam soothed. "We're gonna take care of you." It wasn't comforting to hear him say that. His voice was almost void of emotion. The last time he'd been like this -

"Your soul -"

Dean chuckled, giving you the finger guns. "You're quick," he complimented. "It's only a temporary fix but you'll be dead before him." He smiled widely. "I'd say I'd give you two some time alone but Sammy here might snap your neck by accident."

The thought of dying frightened you and you hastily prayed to Castiel for the millionth time. Dean was laughing again, slapping Sam on the back.

"Are you trying to call the angel?" he mocked, shaking his head like he couldn't control his laughter. "Good luck, sweetheart. Sam called him and said everything was fine. You're on your own."

Sam was moving now, coming to sit on the bed next to you. You weren't bound - Dean didn't need to tie you down. "Didn't you want this? Didn't your biggest fantasy include both of us?" He smiled, leaning in and cupping your breast; you whimpered as he caught an earlier wound. "I used to think about you a lot. Jerked off imagining you sucking my cock and now -" He dipped his head, sucking one of the cuts across the mound of your breasts. "Now I have the real memory."

Dean was watching like a hawk as Sam teased your breasts, enjoying the uncomfortable pleasure on your face. Your body betrayed you at every turn and Dean loved the way you cried when you came.

You had wanted this. You'd desired both of them. And you were getting it.

The elder brother undressed first as Sam played with the cuts littered across your torso. He pressed his mouth to your ear and whispered; "I hope Dean lets me mark you like this."

It shouldn't have turned you on but, oh fuck, did it.

As Sam pulled back, stripping his clothes, Dean covered your body with his, placing one hand on your belly and healing the damage he'd done. "Don't get used to it," he murmured, hovering against your lips. "We'll be replacing them soon."

He pulled you up, moving you easily. Sam was naked now, crawling onto the bed behind you. Dean forced you to straddle his lap, lining his cock up with your pussy. He entered you easily, your arousal easing his path.

"Oh, you lie to me when you scream, sweetheart," Dean growled. "You're so wet, there's no way you don't love this." You remained silent, feeling Sam behind you, apprehension at what he was about to do making you shiver. Dean caught the reaction as Sam produced a packet of lube, tearing it open with his teeth. "I think she's excited for you to fuck her ass, Sam."

"Are you?" Sam asked, spreading the lube over his cock before pressing two fingers against your ass. Dean's hands pulled your shoulders down, exposing your tight hole to his brother. "Oh, she's twitching." His fingers opened you up, pressing through the tight ring of muscle. "I don't know if I'll fit."

Dean smiled, catching your chin with his fingers, meeting your eyes. "She can take it," he murmured and you didn't know if he was lying. Sam's cock had hurt in your pussy - but that had been without prep. At least he was using lube.

You probably should have been bothered by your level of acceptance, but you were so drunk on arousal that it didn't even register.

Sam scissored his fingers inside your ass and you whimpered, clenching around Dean's cock. The elder brother groaned, tightening his hold on your arm. "Damn, she's really tight."

"Benefits of being a demon," Dean growled, kissing you, smiling when he got a response. His teeth closed on your bottom lip, biting it hard enough to draw blood and you moaned against him. "Fuck, Sam, are you gonna fuck her or not? Whatever happens, I can heal her."

The soulless brother shrugged, pumping his fingers into you a few more times before withdrawing, replacing his hand with his cock. You wailed into Dean's mouth as the tip of his brother's dick started to split you open. Sam cursed loudly, holding your ass with both hands as he inched his thick cock into you.

You couldn't stop the scream that left your throat, but Dean muffled it with his hand, smiling as tears welled up in your eyes. "You wanna feel good, baby?" he muttered, using his other hand to clutch the back of your head. "Be a good girl and let Sammy fuck your ass." Sam was almost inside you to the hilt now and you thought he might actually kill you with his dick.

Blinking away the tears, you tried to stop crying, feeling Dean's cock starting to withdraw. You felt so full that it hurt and you didn't see how this could be fun.

Then Sam moved.

Intense bliss like you'd never felt spread through your veins, rendering you silent. The two men fell into rhythm easily and the more Sam fucked you, the less it hurt. Dean was still holding you, one hand around your throat as the other gripping your waist.

His nails were biting into your skin, cutting the flesh with the ferocity of his touch. Sam's hands were on your hips, holding you just as tightly.

It was almost like an out-of-body-experience when you came, shuddering breaths being restricted more and more by the hand around your throat. You could feel them still pounding into you, holding you like a ragdoll between you as they took their pleasure from your body.

"I'm gonna cum," Sam groaned.

"Cum inside her," Dean grunted, feeling his own climax approaching. "Wanna see if you can make her belly swell with cum."

The words had the right effect on Sam and he pumped his hips furiously, slamming harder than before and holding himself against you, his cock feeling so huge inside you that you thought he might be splitting you in two. Dean came with a snarl, kissing you hard enough to cut your lips up.

Sam withdrew first, groaning at the sight of your ass gaping and dripping his cum. As he climbed off and left, heading for the bathroom, Dean pushed you off, letting you fall to the bed without aid. He grimaced at his brother's spunk on his leg, picking up Sam's discarded shirt to clean himself off.

"Still with us?" Dean asked, tucking your hair behind your ear where you laid on the bed in a crumpled heap, face down and panting. "What hurts, baby?"

He was being soft and gentle again and it was so hard to remember that he wasn't your Dean. He was a demon and he wanted to hurt you.

"Everything," you whispered, closing your eyes. Dean's hand covered your forehead, soothing the ache in your body and you thought for a moment that maybe your Dean was back.

You passed out.

When you came to, you were in your room again. Everything smelled clean and fresh and you sat up. Had it all been a nightmare?

Slinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you got to your feet, swaying as you stood. Your head hurt and you were dizzy. How much time had passed? What had been real? Groaning, you picked up your bathrobe, sliding it on over your shoulders.

Sam was in the kitchen, cooking eggs. You stumbled in and sat at the table, instantly clutching your head and catching his attention with a small whimper of pain. Within a second, Sam was crouching down in front of you, touching your hands in concern. "What's wrong?"

"I think… I had a nightmare," you murmured, squinting at him. "And my head hurts."

He smiled at you, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. You responded automatically then stopped, your back going straight.

"You kissed me."

"Of course I did," Sam murmured, apparently forgetting his breakfast. His hands landed on your shoulders, pushing you back on the bench. You panicked, unsure of what was happening.

"Sam!" He stopped, cocking his head as he looked at you. "What are you doing?" you gasped, clutching your robe to your chest.

"I'm sorry, baby," Sam grunted, kissing you softly again. "I just get so wound up by how sexy you are." His fingers tugged at your robe and you shoved at his shoulders, pushing him off.

"What is wrong with you?" you growled, getting to your feet and backing away from him. Strong arms wrapped around you from behind and you screamed, only for the sound to be cut off by Dean's hand. His eyes flashed black as he looked at Sam.

"It didn't work," Dean snarled.

"What do you mean, it didn't work?"

Dean rolled his eyes as they turned back to green. "Castiel didn't buy my act. Saw my true face." He spat in disgust. "I shoulda killed him when I saw him. He got away and you know damn well he's gonna be here as quick as he can."

Sam's eyes darted to you, held firm in Dean's grip and you saw something in there that didn't belong to soulless Sam. Dean didn't catch it, dragging you backwards.

"Stop fighting," he ordered, struggling to keep you under control. "I'm not gonna hurt you but I'm not giving you up either."

"Dean!" Sam's voice made him turn and he frowned at the gun Sam had trained on him. "Let her go."

For a second, there was no expression on Dean's face. The laughter started in his shoulders, bubbling up out of his lips as he held you tight. "Oh, that's fucking rich," he chortled. "Pretending to play soulless. Nice, Sammy. I didn't even pick up on it."

"Let," Sam took a step forward, "her," he cocked his gun, "go."

"Er," Dean paused dramatically, "no." He scoffed in disgust, his hands tightening around you. "You're not gonna shoot me."

Sam fired a warning shot that hit the wall by your head. You didn't move a muscle, terrified Dean would kill you instantly. Why did Sam have to play the hero?

Dean growled at his brother, his eyes filling with black in his rage. "You wanna kill her?"

"Do you?" Sam challenged. "Because being soulless this time didn't rob me of my memories." His tone was thick with guilt but you knew he wasn't to blame. "You said you loved her."

" Past tense , you moron," Dean yelled, one hand slipping to grip your throat, almost cutting off your airway. "I don't give a fuck about her now! She's a spent sex-toy!" Sam's hands were shaking on the gun now. "In fact, I don't know why I'm even keeping her around!"

You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for the pain, waiting for death, permanently this time. When nothing happened and Dean's entire body went stiff, you opened them again, frowning.

Dean released you and you stumbled forward, right into Sam's arms. "I got you," he murmured, surrounding you with his long arms. Glancing back, you saw Castiel, eyes glowing blue with grace, his arms wrapped around Dean's torso tightly.

Sam shielded your eyes, leading you away as Cas did what needed to be done. He led you past your room and Dean's, into his. Nothing had happened in his room, not that he remembered. You didn't say a thing until he sat you down on the bed.

"Are you going to kill him?" you asked, voice barely a whisper.

"I should," Sam replied, just as quietly, "but I can't."

"I don't want you to kill him," you admitted, avoiding his eyes and Sam frowned, sitting next to you. You didn't flinch when he touched you - when Sam touched you, all you wanted was for him to never stop. It was like a drug and you suddenly worried about the long term effects of Dean's spell.

"Why not?" Sam asked but you remained silent, not wanting to admit that the things he'd done had turned you on. Not wanting to say out loud that you wanted them to take you again, use you just like they had before. Was this really you?

Or was this what Dean had made you?

Without an answer, Sam left, heading to deal with his brother. You curled up on his bed and fell asleep.

Neither of them could look at you.

Two days had passed since Dean had been cured of being a demon. Both the brothers avoided you, staying in their rooms and eventually heading out on a case that was probably bogus.

Were you that disgusting to look at now? Knowing the things they'd done, that you'd enjoyed them? So horrified at the way you'd begged for more that they could no longer stand to be in the same room as you?

You packed up your few belongings and left before they could return. Heading east, you drove as far as you could before you ran out of gas, hitchhiking or walking the rest. With no phone and sleeping in quiet copses and abandoned houses, you stayed off the grid.

Reaching Boston took you a few days; not that you were in a rush. You didn't even know why you'd chosen Boston - probably because it had been the first city on the signs you passed. Dean and Sam avoided big cities the majority of the time.

Castiel found you before you'd decided what to do next.

He'd tracked you down easily enough with stolen grace and you had slammed the door of your motel in his face. Which stopped him for all of about sixteen seconds before he was standing in your room watching you with his constantly-stern expression.

"You were gone when they returned to the bunker," Cas said, voice even and tone neutral. You narrowed your eyes at him, folding your arms across your chest. "Sam tried to call you -"

"I ditched my phone," you interrupted. "I would think that, among the many other things, would say I don't want to be found."

Castiel looked exasperated for a second, his jaw clenching the tiniest amount. "You're upset -"

"No, I'm giving them a chance to move on. Without the constant reminder -" Your throat closed up and you turned away, not willing to listen to any of his persuasions. "Just go, Cas. Tell them I'll be fine and…"

He lifted his chin, frowning at you. "And?"

Your shoulders dropped in defeat and you shook your head. "Goodbye."

In all honesty, you never expected Castiel to keep your location a secret. You made up some hex bags and laid a false trail for them to follow before heading north out of Boston on foot. Six miles out, at 4am, a trucker picked you up on the side of the road and gave you a ride all the way to Chicago and a bag of cheetos.

On the city limits of Chicago, you stood in the cold, holding your thumb out until it was almost blue. A guy in a blue pick-up finally pulled over, just as it started to rain. "Need a lift, honey?" he called through the open window and you nodded, opening the door and climbing in.

A very wet, cold nose pressed against your ear and you shrieked, turning around and coming face to face with a very happy looking collie. The guy laughed, pulling the truck away from the road.

"That's Dug, I'm Gary," he chuckled, tilting his head. "Whereabouts you headin'?"

You shuddered from cold, smiling when Dug licked your face. "I'm Y/N. And… anywhere, I guess."

Gary drove you all the way to Wisconsin, stopping along the way and buying you a decent meal, along with some extra supplies he knew you'd need. You thanked him, worrying that he was expecting something in return but he waved it off as you climbed back into the truck, ready to drive the last few hours.

"My daughter would have been about your age right now," he said slowly, keeping his eyes on the road. "She died before she graduated high school."

"I'm sorry," you said, hoping it wasn't anything supernatural that killed her. You hated that it was always the first thing you thought about.

Work, work, work.

Dean used to say that all the time. "You're as bad as Sam; always got your nose in a book." His grin was vivid in your mind that for second, you swore he was right there. You sniffed, wiping your eyes.

"Well, hey now, don't be gettin' upset on my account," Gary soothed, assuming different than the truth. "I'm just glad there's a daddy out there somewhere who won't be getting that phone call." His demeanor became gloomy. "Not tonight anyways."

You didn't have the heart to tell him that your father had died a long time ago. Maybe you had family somewhere out there, but you didn't know where to start finding them. Over time, it just hadn't been so important.

You'd had Sam and Dean.

Gary told you stories about his daughter all the way to Wisconsin and as you left him, Dug bestowed another doggy kiss on you. The old man got out of the truck and helped you down, clapping you on the shoulder. "Take of yourself. Don't let your daddy get that call, ya hear me?"

"I hear you, sir." You smiled at him before stepping up on tiptoes and kissing his cheek softly. "Thank you. I can never thank you enough."

Gary was blushing now. "Go on now, you get outta here before you make an old man's heart stop beatin'."

You grinned and nodded, giving Dug one last scratch between the ears as you headed to the bus station.

For a little while, you stayed in Wisconsin, finally looking into the possible family ties you might have had. Armed with your birth certificate and a few names, you struck out again after only a few weeks, heading West this time. The hex bag was still with you at all times; you didn't want to be found.

With more research, you discovered your mother's maiden name was Jones, which wasn't entirely helpful. You knew your mom had met your dad young - he was in the hunting life and she wasn't. They hadn't told you a whole lot about their background, only that your dad had tried to settle down into the civilian life after they attempted a long distance relationship.

In the end, your mom was too curious about hunting and apparently, good at it. They had you, kept hunting and eventually, there was a monster that was better at being a monster than your parents were at being hunters. You were a teenager, too old for any social services to care about.

Knowing enough about hunting led you to Bobby Singer's door. Through him, you made a network of friends, including Sam and Dean. When Bobby died, you went with them into hiding from the Leviathans. You were close. You loved them. You were content with the way things were.

Now you had no one and nothing to do but find your family.

Your mom had lived in Long Beach, Washington when she was growing up. It was a tiny spit of land a handful of miles long but it was beautiful. And, your mother's mom still lived there, possibly with other family.

410 Quaker Avenue. A quaint house, blue with white trim, and a veranda that ran right round the side of the house.

The door of the house opened about thirty minutes after you'd stood on the sidewalk, wondering whether this was a good idea or not. A elderly woman came out, peering at you, before locking the door and heading down the path.

"Honey, you've been standing there for thirty darn minutes. Are you okay?"

You lifted your head, looking into eyes that were too similar to your own.

The woman's face went slack. "My god. Maria?" She blinked like she was seeing a ghost. "You haven't aged a day -"

With a shy smile, you forced yourself to speak. "I'm not Maria. I'm Y/N. Maria's daughter."

"Leave it be," Dean growled, slamming his fist onto the table. The Mark pulsed with rage and Sam glared at him, shaking his head. "It's been nine months, Sam. She's gone. She's not coming back." Reaching out to snatch the whiskey bottle off of the table, he snarled unpleasantly into the glass container. "Probably a good thing."

Sam stood up, walking away with stiff shoulders. Dean let him go, not batting an eyelid when his brother's door slammed shut.

He hated lying to him. Cas had found Y/N. She was in Washington State. Apparently, she'd found some of her family and moved there, giving up hunting. After what she'd seen, Dean couldn't blame her for that. She was building a life there, moving on, hopefully forgetting them.

Dean couldn't tell Sam where she was. His brother still loved her and Dean knew it hurt because he loved her just the same. But the things they'd done; no, the things he'd done -

They'd driven her away and she wasn't coming back. If Sam knew, he would go for her, Dean was certain. The worst problem was that Dean didn't think he'd stop him. He had to keep her safe.

She was out.

They owed her that much.


	19. Under the Disguise of Lust (GR)

Under the disguise of lust

Eva was never open to roleplaying games before. Just as she hated to disguise herself. In the past, Eva was open to very little anyway. That all changed when she started her new life.

Everything was so easy with Gabriel. And the other members of her surrogate family did their utmost to help her out and be open for new things.

At the conventions, they showed her that it did not matter what other people thought of you. The main thing was to feel good, even if you sometimes made a monkey.

'I really do not look bad'

She smiled and looked at herself in the mirror admiring her outfit.

Schoolgirl, very clichéd.

The hair was braided into two braids, white blouse, plaid skirt, and white stockings. She put a lollipop in her mouth, closed the door behind her, and went downstairs.

Gabriel sat at the kitchen table and was just going through the script for the next episode and when he saw his wife, the pencil fell from his mouth, where he always chewed.

'Holy crap!'

With concentration, of course, it was over when he saw his gorgeous beauty in this presentation.

"Are you correcting our homework?" Eva asked innocently.

Without saying a word, he stared at his wife and cleared his throat before he could choke on his own salvation.

"Um ... yes ..."

"How does it look?"

Legs apart, she sat down on the chair, propped her head in her hands, gave him a questioning look.

"I am so sorry to have to tell you that, but if you keep this up, you will not be relocated this year."

Sighing, he held out a note to which he had written 'not enough'.

Stunned, she looked at him before burying her face in her hands and sobbing.

"But ... but my parents said I can not learn to ride ... if I fail," she whimpered. "Can not you do anything?"

"I can not easily change grades. How do you imagine that?"

"But I want to ride," she wailed defiantly and wiped her hands over her face. "I do everything too!"

"Everything?" Gabe asked in amusement, putting the papers aside and taking off his glasses.

"Yes," she sobbed angrily, pulling her nose up again and again.

"You could be a little bit nice to me for the beginning. Can you be nice? "

"Yes."

"Come closer to me."

Gabriel nodded encouragingly before Eva slowly and hesitantly sat down next to him, staring at him wide-eyed and waiting for instructions.

"How old are you now?" Gabe asked curiously and Eva sniffed again.

"You forget not only sometimes your homework, but also your panties."

Gabriel always loved to try new things with his wife, to slip into different roles and was happy that his wife not only joined in but also enjoyed it.

And also proud. Proud of how she had changed in the past few months. From the shy girl to an actress. Although only in their own four walls, at least. A start.

"Too uncomfortable."

Lost in thought she played with her braid, looked at him provocatively and tore him from his thoughts, which were already much further.

Gabriel took a deep breath and ran a hand over his face. Eva loved it when she could fluster her husband.

"Give me your hand …"

He took it and placed it in his crotch whereupon Eve jumped up in shock and looked at him with an even more frightened look.

"But, Mr. Teacher!"

"If you're nice to me, we can talk about your grades."

With a grin, he opened the zipper and the button of his pants stood up slowly and pushed them to his knees before he sat down again and tapped his thigh again.

A little anxious but expectant, she looked at him uncertainly but hesitated a little when he demanded that she should sit on his lap again. While stroking himself hard, he looked into her eyes all the time.

"You know what that is, right?"

After she had shyly nodded, she cleared her throat and answered:

"That's what you need to pee."

"You can do much more with that," he smirked, and she opened her mouth in astonishment. "Do you want to pet it too?"

She nodded and leaned timidly over him so he could catch a good look in her neckline.

"I like what I see," he whispered hoarsely, licking his lips unconsciously.

Carefully, she stroked his erection and jerked back as something else twitched.

"Oops," she screamed, startled. "It's moving!"

"Sit down again. Has a boy ever caressed you? "

Euphorically she nodded and Gabriel cheekily lifted her skirt a bit high.

"Down there, too?"

Embarrassed, Eva shook her head and frowned.

"Have you ever caressed yourself before?" Gabriel asked further and Eva nodded shyly, lowered her eyes to the floor, embarrassed. "Is a nice feeling, right? We could caress each other a little and see what happens."

The deep moan that she could elicit from him settled directly into Eva's guts and in teamwork, they both took care of her husband.

"Oh," Eva muttered ecstatically as she suddenly felt his fingers between her legs.

"Yes, you do that well," he whispered satisfied. "So, you would like to ride?"

Eva gave him her best smile and nodded.

"That's not a problem, I'll show you how to ride."


	20. Captured (DeanReader)

Captured

Summary The reader is captured by the "new and improved" Dean

The ties around your wrists ached as you came to. Your eyes fluttered open. The small room you had apparently been carried to was small and dark, littered with dark wood furniture. An office? Yes, definitely an office. What the hell?

You wiggled in the stiff wooden chair beneath you as your eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness. Suddenly, a large, overhead light flick on, causing you to wince.

"Good morning, darlin'." The voice made your skin prickle as you lifted your head. Your eyes locked on the face that you had been searching for, for months. The deep green eyes staring back at you were darker than you remembered, emotionless.

Then, the green was gone, drowned out by a pure obsidian gaze. Your breath hitched; it was true. Dean was no longer… Dean. He was something that you hunted, the very thing you killed for the thrill.

"Dean?" you whispered. He just chuckled as he approached you. His muscular form towered over you as his eyes flicked back to green, a smirk forming across his lips.

"Well, technically. New and improved." He leaned down, gripping your wrists that lay tied to the chair's armrests. He leaned in over your shoulder as he took a whiff. The motion sent a shiver down your spine. "That's one thing I miss, your intoxicating scent. Sweet and warm." He groaned into your ear, triggering something down below that you weren't quite expecting.

A sudden burn in your core caught you off guard. What the hell was happening? How did he get you into this room? The last thing you remembered was going out on a run for more beer, leaving Sam behind at the bunker. The next moment, you are tied to a chair in some random office building with the resurrected, demon version of the man you had been in search of for the last several months.

"Are you going to kill me?" you asked, unable to read the man before you.

Dean just laughed as he leaned back a little, locking his gaze to yours. "Oh no, sweetheart. I have better plans for you." One of his hands lifted from your wrist, lowering to rest on your upper thigh. "I've wanted to do this for so long, Y/N. But, I didn't want to ruin our friendship," he whined in a mocking voice. ""But now, I just don't give a shit." His smirk caused a gasp to leave you. He huffed as he leaned in close, brushing his lips against yours. "What do you say to that?" One of his hands slid up. His thumb pressed against your quickly moistening folds.

Your head leaned back as you moaned softly in consent. You couldn't help it. Something about Dean was making you eighteen types of crazy, and you only wanted more. Sure, he was a demon, or whatever he actually was, but it was hot.

Dean nipped your neck as he laughed. "I'll take that as a 'yes'." His other hand rushed to undo your pants, then slipped under the fabric. His fingers toyed with your clit, spinning rough circles as he sucked deep bruises on your neck.

You bucked your hips against his fingers. He smirked against your skin, making you stiffen. "Dean," you moaned, testing the waters.

He lifted himself from you, removing his fingers. You whined at the loss of contact, squirming in your seat. He just stared down at you, smirking. Oh, he was enjoying this, watching you come undone so quickly under his touch.

Without saying anything, Dean lowered himself to his knees. His hands traced over your binds as he smiled. Then, his fingers lowered back to the waistband of your pants, making you growl. He tugged at them, yanking them down your legs, along with your panties, tossing them to the side. Once you were bare from the waist down, he grabbed your hips and yanked you forward so your ass was half hanging off the chair.

His tongue smoothed up your inner thigh, causing you to rock your hips. But, he stilled you, gripping your hips so tightly you could feel bruises begin to form. Then, he continued up to your folds, sliding the tip of his tongue between them at an agonizingly slow pace.

"Oh my god," you growled as you leaned your head back. Dean groaned against your skin as he dipped his tongue into you. You fought against his hands, desperate for more.

Then, he suddenly pulled away. His hands moved from your hips to your binds, yanking them loose. "You don't move until I tell you to." You simply nodded at him, waiting patiently as he removed his pants. Then, without warning, he gripped the underside of our thighs, lifting you from the chair. He spun you around, slamming himself into the chair before pulling you on top of him. His cock stroked your clit as he moved your hips for you, capturing your mouth with his. You moaned as you tasted a hint of your arousal on his tongue.

His firm hands pulled your hips back slightly so he could align himself with you. The tip of his cock bumped against your entrance. He grinned at you as his eyes flicked to black. Something about the darkness, the danger, triggered a shuttered breath from you. Then, just as his eyes changed back to normal, he slammed you down onto him. He never loosened his grip, moving your hips at a furious pace as he lifted up to meet you. One of your hands threaded through his hair while the other gripped the back of the chair, allowing you to steady yourself.

The stretching burn of each thrust drove you wild, conjuring a louder moan each time. "Dean," you huffed as you struggled to catch your breath. You were close, so close. And, by the way Dean was looking up at you, he knew it. He slowed his thrusts teasingly, smirking as he bit your lip.

You reached down, desperate for release, but Dean stopped you. "You want to come?" His voice was raspy and low, making you crazy.

"Mhmm," you moaned as you nodded. "Please," you begged.

"How bad?" he asked as he slammed into once, before slowing his pace again. You squealed as you hovered at the very edge. You gripped his shoulders, digging your nails through the fabric of his shirt as you let out another shuttered sigh.

"Please, Dean," you begged into his ear. He growled in approval. One of his hands gripped your left hip as his other slid over your hand, guiding it down to your clit. He rotated your wrist, forcing your hand to swirl over your aching nub. He quickened his pace as he watched you.

"How does that feel?" he snarled, enjoying the desperation in your eyes. In an instant, your release flooded over you. You screamed his name into the empty room as you bounced over him. His hand remained on your wrist, helping you ride out your wave as he fucked you into oblivion.

You felt his cock twitch as you slowly came down, signaling his own release. A ping of satisfaction shook you as you watched his eyes close and his head roll back onto the back of the chair. He huffed as he thrusted a few more times, before finally relaxing.

By the way he was staring up at you, you knew that this wasn't the end. Not even close. You were imprisoned in this room for a while, not that you were actually imprisoned. Not anymore.

Your mouth dried as he licked his lips. You also knew that Sam would come looking for you soon, and would inevitably find you. The only thing that worried you now was how you were going to explain all of this to him.


	21. Placeholder (DeanReader)

Placeholder

Summary:Set mostly in Swan Song You have loved Dean your entire life. But he presented as an Alpha and you became a Beta. You would give anything to be his Omega and to be enough for him. But, life doesn't always work out that way. (Dean/Reader)

Voicemail. You shouldn't be surprised. Dean Winchester is a hard man to get a hold of. He has a lot on his plate right now. You know the apocalypse is nigh so you understand if he's a bit busy at the moment. You'll try again later.

You settle into your new motel room and think about the allusive Alpha. No matter what kind of day you have or what city you're in, your thoughts always end up in same place, Dean Winchester. Thinking of him always makes you feel at home, even if you're in some rundown seedy motel.

You grew up together. Your parents hunted with John from time to time. They would dump you on Dean so he could babysit you while they went to work. He was just a kid himself but neither your parents nor John seemed to remember that fact. They treated Dean like he was a miniature adult. Even from a young age, you could see the responsibility weighing too heavily on his little shoulders. So, you tried to be as good as possible to lessen the burden. Not wanting to be an additional problem for Dean helped you grow up fast. Even though you were the same age as Sam, you helped Dean take care of him. You did everything in your power to take some of the weight off of Dean and carry it yourself.

Dean always appreciated your effort. He came to see you not as another kid he was stuck watching over, but as his equal. He didn't protect you because he had to or your parents told him to. He protected you because he wanted to. You reminded him it's okay to share the burden of responsibility. You also reminded him it is okay to be a kid once in a while.

You would raid the vending machine at whatever motel your parents dumped you at and bring Dean arm loads of candy. John rarely left enough money for such indulgence. So, you took it upon yourself to steal the money from his wallet before he left. Dean only laughed when he found out how you paid for your treats. You taught him how pickpockets and he taught you how to get creative and use marshmallow fluff in mac and cheese. Back then, it was a give and take relationship.

Things changed when you were thirteen. Your lifelong crush on the eldest Winchester brother hit an all new level. You were starting to understand that the feelings you had for him were not as brotherly as you once assumed. But you were thirteen and he was seventeen. Four years makes a huge difference at that age.

You thought your crush was a one-sided pipe dream. You barely had breasts and yet Dean was paying off the school janitor to let him hook up in the utility closet. You saw the girls he hooked up with. They were beautiful. Meanwhile, you were awkward and just coming into your new body. You were a stupid child who was smitten with an impossible fantasy. You would give anything for him to see you as a mature and beautiful girl.

It was a random Friday night in the middle of October when your life changed. You settled in on the couch with Sam. You both assumed Dean would be leaving to go on a date any minute, as was his usual weekend routine. Instead, Dean flops down on the couch beside you and puts his arm around you.

"What are watching?" Dean aks with a smile.

"We're watching a documentary on the Dark Ages. We just learned about them in class this week and it's really cool-" Sam tries to explain but is cut off.

Dean groans. "Pass! We're not spending our Friday night learning. We spent all week in school. You nerds need a break!" Dean reaches over you to steal the remote from Sam.

Sam protests and snatches the remote away. The brothers start bickering and you slip off the couch. You don't want to get in the middle of one of their brotherly brawls. You know them both well enough to know that this will no doubt end in a wrestling match. The brothers are known for their incessant rough housing. So, you slip away before you get dragged in. You don't want to have to explain another black eye to your father.

You slip into the bathroom and lock the door. You dig through your bathroom carrier and find what you were looking for. When you found out you'd be spending the next few weeks with the Winchester brothers, you snuck into your mom's purse and stole a tube of her lipstick. She's a fulltime hunter so makeup isn't her priority, so she won't be missing it. She only uses it when she goes undercover as an FBI agent.

This is the first Friday night that Dean hasn't had a date. The butterflies in your stomach set you one edge. There is a part of you that hopes he chose to stay home tonight because of you. You know it's probably an insane thought. But just in case it's not, you coat your lips in a thin layer of the pink lipstick.

You give yourself a shy smile in the mirror. It doesn't look half bad.

You put the lipstick away and step back out into the main room. The boys have settled down. As usual, Dean had won control over what you will be watching. In some instances, Dean is not afraid to use his considerable size and strength over his brother to get what he wants. Sam vows one day the tables will turn. Dean only scoffs and tells his brother to keep dreaming.

You resume your place in between the Winchesters. You're hoping Dean will return his arm around your shoulder soon. You scoot a little closer so he'll take the hint. But instead of catching Dean's attention, you catch Sam's.

"What's on your face?" the tactless young man asks you. He has never seen you in makeup before. So, he is a little confused why you would pick now of all times to put some on. "Is that lipstick? Why the hell are you wearing makeup?" He reaches his hand out and smudges the corners of you lip.

You pull away from him and cover your reddening cheeks with your hair. You were hoping the shade of pink was subtle enough that neither brother would think you were trying too hard. You were hoping it would accent your lips, and not make you look like clown. But by the way Sam is laughing at you, you obviously failed in that regard.

"Sammy," Dean warns his brother. He can see you're embarrassed. Your head is lowered and you are wiping off your lips with the back of your hand. Dean gives his brother a hardened glare. In Winchester language, that look told Sam to go for a walk and pick up dinner across the street. You don't even realize Sam was gone until Dean hooks a finger under your chin and forces you to look up at him.

You try offering him a smile but it doesn't reach your eyes. Your embarrassment is plain for the word to see, but it is only your world looking back at you.

"I'm sorry about Sam. I try like hell to teach that kid some manners but he's still only thirteen. The filter in his brain isn't fully developed yet." The smile Dean offers you is intended to be reassuring but all you hear are his piercing words.

He thinks Sam is just a stupid kid. But you're the same age as Sam. He no doubt thinks the same about you.

"I-It's okay, Dean. I was just trying something new. It was stupid." You go to wipe the remaining lipstick off, but Dean stops you.

"Don't… it looks nice." His thumb traces the edges of your lips.

Your eyes widen as he leans forward. He moves slow, giving you enough time to move away. But you don't, you never would. His soft lips meld onto yours. You're not sure what to do. It's your first kiss. You don't want to do the wrong thing and gross him out. You are too caught up in your own thoughts to pay attention to what you're doing. You never thought your first kiss would be with Dean. It was a fantasy you never thought would come true.

Dean can feel how tense you are against him. He smiles against you. "Breathe, sweetheart," he instructs you. You relax into him at the pet name. You return the kiss. You don't know if you're doing it right. The only thing you do know is that you can't measure up to all the other girls he has kissed. So, you pull away.

You cast your eyes down onto your lap. "I'm sorry," you say because you're not sure what else to say. You don't know what you are sorry for. For stopping? For being a bad kisser? Either way you're sorry.

"What the hell for? I kissed you. Did you not want me to?" There is a hitch of worry in his voice. He thought the lipstick was for him. He's known about your crush for a while now. He never acted on it because four years makes a huge difference at this age. But over the past few weeks something feels as though it is changing in him. He couldn't hold back any longer.

"I did… I do! It's just…" you're not sure what to say. You weren't prepared for this. You were content pining in the background. It hurt but you had gotten used to it. You're not sure how to handle the fact he may reciprocate your affection.

"Can we try one more time? Just let me do all the work. I think you'll like it," Dean says with a coy smile. He doesn't know why he is intent on pushing you. He got a taste but it wasn't enough. It only made him want more. He wants one more kiss to make you feel as wanted as you make him feel. "If you're not into it, just push me away. You tell me to stop, I'll stop."

You bite your lip but give him a slight nod of agreement. It feels like everything you want is within reach. You won't let your insecurities keep you from experiencing your wildest dreams.

Dean leans forward again and captures your lips in a chaste kiss. He doesn't push you for more. There is no tongue or demands. The kiss is sweet and soft. All your hesitancy and all your fears melt away as you melt into him. You feel so safe in his arms as he backs you up so you are lying against the arm of the couch.

As the gentle kiss continues, you can smell the air shift around you. You don't know what it is but it smells amazing. The scent wraps around you like a safety blanket and you feel at home.

You find yourself opening your clenched teeth. You tongue peaks out to test the waters. You tickle his bottom lip. You could have sworn you heard a low rumble in his chest.

Dean goes to open his mouth and fully give you what you're asking for, when the motel door swings open. He pulls off of you in an instant.

You both turn to see your parents and John fuming in the doorway. You hadn't expected them to return until tomorrow night. You sit up straight on the couch as if they don't already know what you two were doing.

You father comes over and grips your arm and yanks you off the couch. You stumble under the force of his tug and whimper in pain. Dean stands up and growls at your father's rough handling of you. John steps between his son and your father.

"I fucking knew it! It was only a matter of time before your idiot son presented as an Alpha! You Winchesters are all the same! Bullheaded Alphas who can't keep it in their pants. I'm just glad we got here in time before he got his filthy Alpha hands over my precious girl!" your Beta father barks at John.

You look over at Dean with widened eyes yet again. Alpha? Was Dean starting to present? Was that all this was? You know that when Alphas present they get really horny. Is that all that kiss was, an itch he was trying to scratch?

It is as if Dean could read your thoughts. He shakes his head and stares you dead in the eye. His look tells you that that is not all this was.

John scoffs and steps toward your father with his Alpha chest puffed out. "That is big talk coming from a coward like you." John pokes at your father shoulder. His tone lowers to a threatening level. "I'd watch what you say about my family. I bet your 'precious girl' wishes she was good enough for a Winchester's knot." John defends his pack in the most vulgar and hurtful way imaginable. Little does he know, those his words will haunt you for the rest of your life.

Your father grinds his teeth but doesn't say a word to defend you. He knows better than to challenge the Alpha. It's better if you just leave. Tears spring to your eyes as John's words replay over and over in your mind. You are waiting for anyone, especially Dean, to jump in tell him you are good enough for his son. But no one makes a move. Dean doesn't make a move.

Your father shoves you into your mother's waiting arms and she shuffles you out of the room. You spare one last look over your shoulder at Dean. His head is hung low. You call out for him but he turns his back to you.

By the time Sam gets back with dinner, you are gone.

You don't see the Winchesters again for another nine years. By that time, both brothers are full blown Alphas. Those tiny shoulders of Dean's that bore the weight of raising Sam, now have grown broad and wide to hold the weight of the world.

In those nine years, both your parents and John had died in the line of duty. That is the only reason you were able to reconnect with the brothers. There is nothing and no one standing in your way. It was awkward at first but you soon fell into a comfortable rhythm. A few years had passed since you reconnected and things are more or less how they should be. Just as he had done as a kid, Sam teases you like the brother you never had. But things were different with Dean. You didn't fall into your old routine of caring glances and comfortable banter. You fell into bed.

You couldn't complain. It was always a great time. Plus, he was your first. He showed you a whole new world. He let you explore your darkest desires without judgment or resistance. You two never regained the close relationship you had as kids. Instead, you exchanged love for lust. Of course, the love was always there on your end. That's why you were always able to trust him in bed. But for him, he never returned your gestures of intimacy. He never wanted to cuddle after and never told you he loved you back. He was usually gone before morning came.

It hurt you every time but you always came back for more. You need him, even if he doesn't need you. It's always been Dean. You could never love anyone else the way you love him. You know there have been other women. You will never be his one and only. You've accepted that. But the fact he always comes back to you has to mean something, right?

Every time the two of you have sex he never knots you. He could be in the middle of his rut but he still never knots you. One night after a few drinks, you asked him why. He just laughed at you. He told you that because you were only Beta, you couldn't handle it. He didn't want to hurt you with it. Your biology makes taking a knot nearly impossible. He said, "Betas aren't supposed to mate with Alphas," as if it was the most casual statement in the world.

It took a lot of effort but you were able to bite back your tears at that response. You were grateful he was willing to be so honest with you but the truth hurt. You have always been insecure about being a Beta. After that Friday night in October, you spent the rest of your childhood praying you'd present as an Omega, Dean's Omega. You dreamt of that star-crossed lover fantasy. Your parents kept you apart for years but you would find your way back to your true mate in the end. But that romantic illusion wasn't your fate. Being his Omega was never your fate.

You come from a family of Betas. You were never going to be anything else. But still that hope kept you warm on long nights when your parents left you alone while they were on a hunt. The memory of being in Dean's arms is the only thing that kept you going. It gave you something to look forward to. But now, you are well past the age of even late presentation. That hope is gone. And the best you are offered is drunken trysts with the Alpha you love who will never be able to love you back.

He needs an Omega. And you will never be one. You will never be his. You will always be a placeholder until he finds his true mate. You hope that day never comes. You know it's selfish but you couldn't bear it. You have made it your life's mission to be enough for him. But you know you are failing miserably. Despite that, you can't help but think that one day he'll look past your genetics and mate you.

Every time you have sex you bear your neck to him but he never claims you. Sometimes, he'll give you a hickey that lasts a couple days at most but never cements your bond. You know it's impossible for an Alpha to mate a Beta but you wish he'd at least try.

One time, you even tried presenting for him. You got on your hands and knees and presented yourself to him like an Omega would, but he didn't even notice. He just started fucking you without a second thought. To him, he was just taking you from behind.

You settle into bed and lie awake thinking of your past with Dean. Any other person, someone less desperate and masochistic, would have walked away by now. But you can't do that.

Your phone lights up the dark room. Dean is calling you back. You spring toward your phone and answer it after the second ring. His voice is empty. He doesn't sound like himself. He doesn't tell you what is wrong. He just asks where you are and hangs up the phone.

A few hours later, Dean is at your door. His eyes are glistening with tears and you almost break down at the sight. But you remain firm for him. Whatever happened, you will get him through it. You will be his rock.

Dean pushes into your room. "Sam's gone," is all he says.

"You don't mean…" you can't say the words. The boys told you a little bit about what was going on with the apocalypse. They told you that Lucifer and Michael wanted to hash out their family drama using tailor-made Winchester meat suites. But you still can't let yourself believe Sam may have said yes to the devil.

Dean nods and he steals a bottle of whiskey off your counter. He takes a swig before elaborating. "Sam said yes. Then he jumped into the cage, taking Michael and Lucifer with him." Dean tries to give you the cliff-notes version. He can't stand the thought of reliving the moment he had to say goodbye to his brother. He can't stand the thought of you knowing he was a failure. He couldn't save Sam or Adam. It was always supposed to be Dean who went down, not his brothers.

He needed to see you. You are the one constant in his life. You're always there for him. You always put him back together and make him feel as though he is capable of anything. He needs that right now. He needs you to look at him the way you always do, like he is your hero. He needs you to put him back together if he is ever going to get on with his life. He knows he needs to move on. But he needs your help to do that. He needs you to give him that push, a little boost of confidence so he can leave this life behind.

"We'll get him out," you assure Dean but he shakes his head.

"Not this time. That kid sacrificed himself for us, for everyone. I can't undo that for my own selfish reasons. I wouldn't know how even if I wanted to," Dean polishes off half the bottle.

You stride over to him and swallow your tears. Sam was your best friend. Under normal circumstances, his death would kill you. But you don't have that luxury. You have to be strong for Dean. You wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head against his chest. You try and transfer every ounce of comfort you can muster.

Dean doesn't return your embrace. Fresh tears well in his eyes at your touch. He takes another long swig of whiskey. He throws the bottle across the room and grips the backs of your thighs. He hoists you up so your legs wrap around him. He carries you to the bed and throws you down onto it.

Your pajama pants are ripped down your legs in seconds. He pushes his jeans down just enough to expose his aching cock. He hovers in over you and presses a soft kiss you your lips. Its gentle nature reminds you of your first kiss. But seconds later, his thick Alpha cock is filling you to the hilt. Those sweet memories are pushed from your mind. He didn't prepare you or start off slow. But you bite back your cries of pain as he splits you open. He needs this. You'll give him anything he needs.

He fucks into you at an angry pace. He is taking his frustration out on you. You are a safe place to release his pain. You squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the pain to turn into pleasure. It takes a while, but it eventually happens. His bruising fingers push up your shirt just enough to expose your breasts. He grips them with more force than you're used to. He bites down over your left nipple and sucks it between his teeth. You cannot stifle your mixed cries of discomfort and desire.

He rams into you harder as his release nears. Your eyes fly open when you feel his knot catch on your entrance. Your hips try to jerk away at the stretching sensation but he holds you down. Under his weight you are kept still as he forces his knot inside you. When it erupts, you scream in agony. Betas aren't meant to take an Alpha's knot and now you know why. It feels like someone is using a dull and rusted needle to sew you two together. He is locked within you. Your legs wrap around him as he gives you a few lazy thrusts as he empties himself inside you.

For years, you wanted his knot. You know your body is not supposed to take it so willingly but it does. It hurt at first but now all you feel is content. You never found your orgasmic release, but you found something better. You found an unprecedented intimacy with the Alpha of your dreams.

He rests his head on your chest and you stroke his hair as you wait for his knot to go down. You swear you almost heard him purr against you. Neither of you care that you are supporting his full weight. You both need this connection. You smile to yourself as you finally are able give the Alpha what he needs. You defied the odds of your biology and took his knot. Maybe you can take his claim too. But you can worry about that later. Once he gets back on track, you'll talk about what this means. You don't want him making any rash decisions in this state. You have the rest of your lives.

His knot dies down and he slips out of you. You cannot stifle a hiss at the sensation.

Worry creases his brows. He leans back over you to pull your shirt down and your pants back up your legs. He knows you didn't cum but now you're probably in too much pain to get there. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't meant to go that far. It won't happen again. Are you alright?"

You give him a warm smile and you see the tension leave him, if only for a moment. "It's fine, Dean. I liked it," you tell the truth. "I may be a little sore tomorrow but then again, I usually am." You try teasing him to lighten the mood.

The corner of Dean's mouth turns upward but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"Come on, let's go to sleep. We can talk in the morning." You scoot up the bed and pull on his hand. You can tell he hasn't gotten a proper rest in a long time.

Dean slips his hand out of yours. He pulls up his pants and refastens them. "I-I think I should go get us some food." Dean says as though he is trying to come up with an excuse to not get into the bed.

"If you're hungry, I can go get something for us or I can go with you," you offer as you get up.

"No," Dean says as he comes to block your way. "Stay here. Rest until I come back for you." He gives you a half-hearted smile before his eyes drop to the ground. "I – I…" there is something on the tip of Dean's tongue that he wants to say but can't, not yet.

Your heart stops at his almost-admission. The shy look on his face tells you he may finally be ready to tell you he loves you. But you put an end to his hesitation. Like you said, now isn't the time for rash decisions. You don't want him saying something he may regret later. Your heart couldn't take it if once the dust settles, he wants to take it all back.

Once he has a clear mind, you can talk about everything. You can talk about him claiming you. You can talk about maybe getting out of the hunting life together. It has always been a secret dream of yours. You only stayed in this life because of him. After you avenged your parents, you were going to quit. But then you ran back into the Winchesters and you couldn't leave them behind. You couldn't leave them alone to endure this harsh and painful life on their own. You wouldn't do that to them. You also realize you can't get out on your own. You need him bedside you. But now, Sam is gone. It's only you and Dean. There is nothing holding you back.

Maybe you can have that apple pie life together he always jokes about.

You raise on your tiptoes and kiss Dean. It is a chaste and comforting kiss that is full of promise. He accepts it and holds you in his arms for a lingering moment. It is the best moment of your life. For second, you each forget about the hell waiting for you outside the motel walls. You forget the pain of losing Sam and that a world exists outside of each other's arms.

But Dean breaks the kiss and reality rushes back into the room. "Thank you for this," he says as he lowers his gaze to the floor. He leaves without another word.

An hour passes and you start pacing the room. Dean still isn't back yet and you're getting worried. You feel it is too soon for you to call, so you wait. Another forty-five minutes passes and your restraint crumbles. You pull out your phone and call home. Voicemail. You hang up and try again. Voicemail. That pattern repeats itself for the next ten minutes.

You try to calm yourself down. This is Dean Winchester. He can handle anything. No matter what may have interrupted his food run, he can handle it. But then you remember the thought that keeps you up at night: Dean Winchester is his own worst enemy. Nothing in this world can bring Dean down except for himself. A panic rushes through you as you imagine what Sam's death may cause him to do.

He promised he wouldn't try to get Sam out. But it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume he would do something stupid because he couldn't handle the loss. Sam was his world. Ever since they were kids, it was always him and Sam. You don't think Dean knows how to cope without him. It was different when Sam went to Stanford, he was still alive, still safe. But now that he is in hell, so is Dean.

Your worry has driven you to track his phone. He is headed out of town. You get in your car and follow his trail. The drive is uncomfortable due to the soreness in your core but you push past it and drive forward.

You are over two hours behind him. So, by the time you catch up to him, the Impala is parked in a random suburban street and Dean is nowhere around. You scan your surroundings for any place he could be. There is something familiar about this area but you can't quite place it. Why did he stop here, on this apple pie street in the middle of America?

But then you see it, you see him. Dean is sitting at a kitchen table in front of a big bay window. There is a kid sitting across from him as Dean nurses a glass of whiskey. You then realize where you are. Familiarity cements into realization. You've been here before. You came here while Dean was living out his greatest hits before he was dragged down to hell. That was the worst year of your life so you tend to block out most of it, that's why you didn't recognize it at first. You shake your head as if by sheer force of will you can make this unreal.

Then you see her, Lisa Braeden. Or as Sam once called her 'the Omega that got away' or more specifically 'the Omega Dean let slip away'. You never met her yourself. You kept your distance when Dean came here to live out his final fantasy with the former yoga instructor. You didn't want to get in his way but you also couldn't bear to see it. You've seen pictures of her though. You'd know her anywhere. She is his Omega.

Lisa sets down plates of food on the table in front of Dean. He smiles. He actually smiles and it's a real smile. He never did that when he came to see you earlier in the night. You may have gotten his lips to curl but you never got his eyes to beam. And a smile is all in the eyes. She can give that to him. She can make him happy. Even from across the street you can see that clear as day.

She can give him an apple pie life with no fuss or confusion. He can slip right in and find a waiting home.

You try to see if Dean has left a claiming mark on her neck already, the mark you could never and now will never bare. You are across the street and can't see that kind of detail from where you are standing. But you assume if she doesn't already, she will by tonight.

Your eyes water over as you realize that earlier he was not trying to tell you he loved you. He was saying goodbye.

You let out a humourless laugh at your own stupidity.

You don't want to interrupt him as he settles into his new life, his new family. He's happy and you won't ruin that. You are Beta. You now realize it was always a delusional fantasy that you could be enough for him. Your genetics have condemned you to a lonely fate. You know Omegas have a rough life. But you would endure all of it, if it meant you got to be Dean's Omega. He will always be your Alpha, even if you are nothing to him.

Now, it is your turn to say goodbye. You want him to know that you won't bother him. He doesn't have to worry about you turning up and bringing the dangers of his old life with you. You'll continue hunting, you can't get out on your own. Unlike him, you have nowhere to go. You'll keep up the good fight but you'll keep your distance from him and his new family.

But first, you need to hear him say goodbye. You've loved him since you were children. You both deserve some semblance of closure as you move to the next chapter of your separate lives.

You pull out your phone and lean against the Impala. You dial his number for the last time. You watch him through the window. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, looks at the screen, then puts it away again. You squeeze your eyes shut and thick tears fall as he declines your call. Voicemail.


End file.
